


Excite Me

by HadenXCharm



Series: Excitement [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual crossdressing, Fluff and Smut, Ichigo comes to terms with crossdressing??, Illustrations, Insecurity, Jealousy, Lingerie, M/M, Porn With Plot, Silly and serious, christmas and new years, fluff porn and angst, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-03 06:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HadenXCharm/pseuds/HadenXCharm
Summary: “I was just trying to help you out.”“Oh yeah? Help me how,” he muttered suspiciously. “By blabbering at me about how much Renji likes women? Is it supposed to bother me or something?”“No,” Hisagi denied. “That wasn’t what I was trying to get at.” Ichigo snarled - this guy was really starting to piss him off!“What were you trying to get at then?!”Hisagi looks into his eyes then, expression dead seriously, and tells him, “All I’m saying is that Renji’s used to a certain degree of excitement.”Ichigo listened quietly, considering, shoulders slowly lowering. “Oh,” he said at last.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo's always been really secure in his relationship with Renji. After a night at the bar with Renji and his friends, and a weird conversation with a really drunk Hisagi, all that changes rather suddenly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year. The other shit I'm writing right now is kind of gloomy, so here's some smut. It's a callback to those old-ass 2010-era renichi oneshot pornos.

Ichigo wouldn’t say he had a particularly calming influence on people, discounting children _maybe._ He was known to get into fights a lot, less so now that he was an adult. Honestly, that probably had less to do with personally maturing and more to do with the fact that he didn’t get malicious comments about his hair as much now that he wasn’t in school anymore - _adults didn’t openly bully each other as much as high-schoolers do._ In any case, even if Ichigo had mellowed out somewhat since his teenage years, he could still be quite the hothead, and shouted more than was strictly necessary.

Which is why he didn’t understand why people constantly said that, concerning his boyfriend, he was a miracle-worker. Apparently he’d been the one to ‘tame’ and get his partner, Renji, to finally ‘settle down.’

It’s not like the two of them don’t bicker and shout each other down _in public_ of all places from time to time. Honestly he’s surprised they haven’t gotten more complaints from neighbors or concern from friends that they were abusive to each other, with how much they argued. It probably has something to do with the ‘gap moe’ phenomenon, because as much as they argued, apparently they were equally obvious in their affection and loyalty to one another, Renji more so than Ichigo, which was why he didn’t get that _he_ was the one who’d apparently ‘tamed’ the other, whatever the fuck that meant.

Nah, actually, he knew what people were referring to. He just thinks it’s dumb. However subtle they’re think they’re being, they’re talking about sex.

Ichigo didn’t really know much about it due to lack of interest, but from what he’d gathered over the years, he knew that Renji, in his younger days, mostly before they had met, had used to really play the field - played it _hard._ Apparently he’d had a couple years of absolute _craziness_ _,_ a chain of one-night stands - and _group sex_ at parties? _-_ so out of control to the point where his friends didn’t know if he’d be able to function later in life with a real relationship - _‘Who’s going to take care of you when you’re old, Renji, if you never stop chasing tail?!’_

But then, bla-bla-blah, the two of them had met and changed each other’s lives, bla-bluh, and fallen in love, _blaaaaah_ \- and it’s been like that ever since, the two of them together, side by side. It’s been quite a few years going now. Luckily Renji’s close buds had all but stopped giving them weird looks like they thought Renji had hit his head or been switched with a good twin, and even better, they’d stopped giving Ichigo the _far worse_ looks of pity and sympathy and the _stupid_ warnings to ‘enjoy it while it lasts.’

He’d been told a couple times since then by Renji’s friends, once they’d stopped acting like Renji was going to drop him like a used tissue, that they were surprised to see Renji so committed, so goo-goo eyed - who knows what _that_ meant - and that they’d never thought anyone could get someone like Renji to settle down in one place for good, which usually made Ichigo shrug noncommittally and Renji interject that it was because Ichigo was _really special,_ which of course got them arguing and shouting again: ‘Don’t say things like that openly!’  

     ‘Geez, I’m just being nice!’

            ‘Be nice in private!’

Whatever, if their relationship meant he’d settled Renji down, then they were fucking settled and everything was fine. Ichigo didn’t care about any of that stuff in the past - whoever that person had been, Renji hadn’t been that man anymore by the time they’d met - or at least, very nearly after that. No matter what Renji’s friends said in their occasional weird little mentions and cryptic references to _‘that time,’_ Renji was with Ichigo now, his great love, and Ichigo was in his first and only relationship ever. Things were getting pretty serious actually.

Renji’s past didn’t bother Ichigo particularly other than being this thing always vaguely on the periphery, because it held no real importance in their lives now and didn’t interrupt their daily life. Which meant Ichigo didn’t waste time thinking about it.

Of course, there were some things about a person that didn’t change, and Renji was admittedly still sort of a skirt-chaser, but a really lazy one. It was part of his personality at this point, his flirtiness, and of course, it also helped that he had a gorgeous smile, an infectious energy, and an undying loyalty to those he cares for - it won hearts left and right.

Ichigo’s not a jealous guy though, which was probably why their relationship worked the way it did, despite their constant arguing. Renji flirted with girls when he was standing right next to him sometimes, but Ichigo didn’t really pay attention to it much, because Renji was just doing what he did, and had more than enough left for him. It was far more sweet than it was a sexual thing, so why should Ichigo care when it wasn’t causing any harm.

So maybe even though Ichigo had never known Renji during ‘that time,’ Renji’s past life was still this thing that was always vaguely _there_ on the sidelines, but only inasmuch as it was a personality trait so deeply ingrained in Renji that to ask him to stop would be to change him into someone other than the man he loved.

Ichigo didn’t mind honestly, didn’t even think twice about it. There wasn’t space in his brain to summon the effort to be worried that Renji might stray, that he would be disloyal. Ichigo was confident in their feelings towards each other.

One might ask why it even bears repeating that Renji had more notches than his belts had space for when it doesn’t have a thing to do with their daily lives now.

That’s because after about four years of being extremely, almost _obliviously_ secure in their relationship, all that changed for Ichigo rather suddenly one night.

It all started when he and Renji went out with friends after work for a night of drinking. They were admittedly mostly Renji’s friends, but Ichigo got along with a couple of them - mostly Ikkaku. They did a couple of barhops, wandering outside in the snow from place to place, which allowed Renji to flirt with five or six different servers, and eventually they landed on a club. After sitting all together in a booth, it had somehow become a point of discussion that Ikkaku and Yumichika were still ‘friends’ - _whatever you want to call those two_ \- after coming up on something like a decade and a half of knowing each other. How did people not get sick of each other, how did people like them keep it interesting? Ikkaku was _so_ not into the conversation, and Ichigo neither.

He got up after a couple minutes and wandered to the bar, not paying them any more attention so he could drink and people-watch. Renji came and they danced together for a time, but they separated again when Ichigo wanted another drink. He eventually made buddies with the guy sitting next to him and chatted with him for a while as they watched the dance floor. He was pretty cool, the stoic and serious type who wore leather jackets and doc martens and, while willing to have a conversation, was of few words - he honestly reminds him of Chad a little.

They were getting along pretty well, that was, until Hisagi Shuuhei, Renji’s old friend from college, slapped himself against the counter on Ichigo’s other side. Ichigo glanced at him, sipping his beer. This guy always got too drunk after work if people let him, him and his buddy Kira both.

“Where’s,” Hisagi started, voice slow and slurred. He hiccuped. “Where’s Abarai?” Ichigo shrugged a shoulder and pointed out at the floor where Renji was still dancing with more than a couple girls. “Whuthu’ fuck, you’re just _watching_ him do it now?!” Hisagi complained, too loud, waving a hand forward at the display. Ichigo scrunched his brow. “You two really are weirdos. It pisses me off, man.”

“Friend of yours?” Ichigo’s new buddy asked.

“Friend-in-law.”

“Mm.”

Ichigo glanced to Hisagi again, Renji’s usually composed and overly serious senpai, now a pink-faced swaying mess with, apparently, no inhibitions. Hisagi was never this talkative, normally very mature and even a little uptight at times, but he had his good moments. He was oddly enthusiastic about his hobbies from what Ichigo had seen over the years, and seemed to be a kind person. Ichigo didn’t particularly like him, but he didn’t have a grudge or anything against the guy - they’re just not close. What he hadn’t realized until that night was that Hisagi _did_ seem to harbor some resentment, which he unloaded on him and his new barmate in the form of telling him _again_ about the old times.

Ichigo didn’t see how it was any of Hisagi’s business, but apparently it annoyed him when Ichigo and Renji were out together to see Ichigo not so much as bat an eye at Renji doing… _Renji_ stuff, like right now, dancing with those girls and playing around. “It’s like you don’t even fucking care. Like you’re fucking taking all of,” Hisagi ran a hand up and down the line of Renji’s figure from a distance, _“that_ for granted!” He grimaced when Ichigo didn’t say a goddamn word, watching Renji and those cute girls and sipping his drink.

“There!” Hisagi shouted, throwing a hand out. “Look at him with that total babe, doesn’t that make you mad?!”

Ichigo dug his pinkie in his ear. He’s starting to get irritated. “Uhh, no. Why should it make me mad. He's not doing anything bad.”

“So you just don’t care then.” He looked up and found Hisagi staring at him hard, and it’s different from his usual stern expression. It’s flushed, and far more creased with hot emotions.

“I do. I’m just not an insecure loser.”

“Okay, maybe he is just messing around, but you’re gonna’ let him disrespect you like that?” Ichigo scrunched his brow.

“He’s not.” Renji’s never disrespected him. Maybe Ichigo just doesn’t think of it that way, but to him it’s seemed like Renji’s flirting has always had a clear line. He made friends everywhere he went, maybe bought them drinks, played with girls and danced with them, but there was a line he didn’t cross, and he always, always returned for Ichigo’s affection, not to mention he’d drop everything and come running if Ichigo wanted him by his side. Even now, Renji glanced over to see them talking and gave them a happy wave. Ichigo held up a couple fingers back.

“He’s just having fun.” Hisagi sighed, turning to the counter and ordering himself another drink. He was thankfully quiet for a while, which let Ichigo and his buddy continue to people-watch in companionable silence.

“Boyfriend?” the guy finally said, starting conversation again, which Ichigo didn’t mind. Ichigo glanced over.

“Huh? Him? No.” The guy shook his head and pointed out into the crowd at Renji. “Oh. Yep.” The guy nods and drinks a little more, and the two of them watch Renji dance.

  
“Problem?” Ichigo muttered at last when he didn’t say anything else.  
  


“Nope. Guess he looks cool.”  
  


“Thanks.”  
  


“Hot too.”  
  


“Thank you.”  
  


“Ugh, see?!” Hisagi butt in again, drawing their attention. They both raised their eyebrows at him.  
  


“Never mind, forget it.” He shook his head though and muttered, “I just dunno’ how Abarai deals with it, I’ve seen him,” he burped, “seen ‘im go nuts, y’know, in the old days.” Ichigo glanced to him mildly, not much invested in having this conversation. “And you, you-” He held his hands up around Ichigo’s chest level and made these grabby motions. Ichigo looked down for a moment and then, suddenly catching on, snarled, going from a two to a ten in a second flat as usual. He viciously shoved Hisagi’s arm away. “Whadda’ you got, huh? Are those even A-cups?”  
  


“Dude,” Ichigo said, scowling. “You are _so_ blasted. Settle down.”  


“You really don’t ever worry at all?”  
  


“No. I don’t.”  
  


Hisagi seemed to accept that for the moment, at least was willing to let it drop as his drunk-brain came back to the boobs thing. “Okay, Kurosaki, but lemme’ tell you, Abarai is a boobs-man through and through, and he’s been suffering for you for a long damn time.” He took another gulp of alcohol, spilling some down his chin. “I mean, you’re just one man.”

Ichigo didn’t pay credit to one word he was saying, because he was so drunk that a serious professional guy like him had _pretended to grab boobs_ earlier, but the more Ichigo didn’t answer him, the more Hisagi wouldn’t shut up.

“Maybe if there were three or four a’ you, you could take the edge off. You dunno’ how many times-”

Ichigo stared him down in both crazed drunken eyes, and only looked up at that moment when he heard his boyfriend approaching. “Hey! Senpai, what are you telling him!” Renji shouted as he came up on them, seeming embarrassed somehow when he caught on to what Hisagi was talking about - although, who knows _how_ he’d heard in this loud ass club. Ichigo didn’t know what to make of that look on Renji’s face either, slightly scrunched with embarrassment, which was absolutely _silly_ if half the shit he’s heard about Renji’s past is to be believed.

Renji shooed his drunk friend away. “Go on,” he insisted, scolding, “Get away from him!” He watched Hisagi go, hands on his hips, until he saw Kira and Hisagi meet in the distance and start. . . Ichigo would call it dancing, but it’s more like flailing, they’re both so hammered.  He turned then with an anticipatory grin. “Hey! Ready ta’ play some cards, Ichi?” Ichigo nodded absently, shrugging a shoulder. “Who’s this?” Renji asks directly, grinning widely.

Ichigo glances to his drinking buddy, who introduces himself. Renji shakes his hand and ordered his own drink. “You can come too, man. C’mon, let’s go play, guys.”

They find a booth together and shoot the shit, playing cards and drinking together with their new friend. Renji stays close at his side the rest of the night, occasionally looking up to give an eye out over the dark noisy room. Other than asking offhand if Renji knew whether Hisagi had gotten home safe, Ichigo didn’t think much on what Hisagi had said, knowing that if the guy remembered _dick_ from tonight, he’d be humiliated for life.

Renji gets up to get them another round, and Ichigo watches him tease and grin at the server. Ichigo put his chin on his hand, and for a second, stares at his boyfriend and his happy face and thought… and for a second, he doubted.

It was the first time he’d ever second-guessed _them_ like that, and he brushed it off almost immediately, but when they said goodbye to their drinking buddy and to Renji’s remaining friends and went home that night and got in bed together, the thought came back to him, floated back through his head.

He really had spent these last few years watching Renji gaze at girls and flirt to his heart’s content. Hisagi, who’d always seemed somewhat supportive of their relationship, drunk off his ass, had probably told him what he'd really secretly thought the whole time. He’d insinuated earlier that Ichigo was just one guy - _he’s just one guy, so how can he possibly be interesting enough to satiate Renji’s philandering soul?_

Ichigo didn’t think Hisagi was right, but he had a feeling that it might be the most honest thing the guy’s ever said to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo confronts Hisagi to get a better idea of what he'd been trying to say that night at the bar, but instead of chasing away his cares, it just makes things worse. 
> 
> He started to wonder... Is he boring? Was Renji dissatisfied with their love life?

Life went on as usual, and despite not seeing Hisagi again since that weird night at the club, the thought keeps poking up annoyingly in the back of his brain anyways.

He didn’t know why, but weirdly, it kept bugging him, and at last he was bothered enough that he went to confront Hisagi on his own and tell him to say what he fucking means, to say what he really thought - _some friend he is, huh?!_

To be honest, the two of them have never really talked much. They’ve never fought or anything, but they’ve always had this weird strained relationship - there's this  _barrier_ there that didn't allow them to become close - and Ichigo had always assumed it was because Hisagi was Renji’s friend and not his. He’d thought the strain was probably just the usual awkwardness between ‘friends-by-association,’ but apparently there was something more there that Hisagi’s never mentioned out of politeness or something. In any case, despite not exactly gelling together perfectly up until now, this whole idea Hisagi had that he wasn't enough for Renji was news to Ichigo.

If Hisagi’s had a beef with him for all these years and never said anything about it, then he should fucking come out with it already.

A couple of days per week, Ichigo uses his lunch break to go visit Renji and eat lunch with him, but today when he leaves the hospital and enters Renji’s office building, the person he searches out first is Hisagi Shuuhei. He found him on Renji’s floor in the breakroom, by the microwave, and for a moment it was as if that weird night had never happened. Hisagi was back to normal, holding his mug of coffee, the sleeves rolled up on his dress-shirt, and his tie tight and snug around his neck. Ichigo still didn’t know how he’d gotten hired at this firm with that kind of tattoo, but who really cared.

“Oh.” Hisagi didn’t meet his eyes, but drew a tight smile in his direction. “Renji’s already gone down to the cafeteria.”

“Fuck that, I was looking for you. You’re gonna’ tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Ichigo demanded, squaring his shoulders. Hisagi eyed him for a second before sighing and setting his mug down, then he turned.

He put a hand to his hair and, using the formal speech he used with everyone other than his close friends, began, “If you’re talking about the other night, I apologize. That was all a bunch of nonsense.”

Ichigo curled his fists up. “Oh yeah?” he growled. Was Hisagi seriously brushing this off like it hadn’t been driving Ichigo crazy for days?

“Yes,” Hisagi insisted firmly, and by all accounts, was back to his old self judging from how maturely he handled Ichigo’s directly confrontational stance and rude speech. “We all know how Renji feels about you. He’s made it clear to me that he’s more than satisfied just where he is.”

Ichigo grit his teeth and let out a hot breath. “I’m gonna’ kill him,” he muttered.

Hisagi lifted his lip and showed his teeth in a little bit of a smile. “It wouldn’t stop him talking about you,” he said quietly, in a break from his professional tone. "He brags night and day."

“I know,” Ichigo sighed in exasperation.

“In any case, I apologize, I went overboard drinking again. It wasn't my place to get involved like that. But… if you really wanted to know what I was getting at, I guess I thought in my clumsy way that I could try to help you out.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. He knows that Hisagi and Renji used to sleep together, and if he’s honest, even if he wasn’t jealous about it, there did seem to be some low-key rivalry there that might just be rearing its head for the first time - because in that moment, he didn’t particularly appreciate being offered _help_ by a guy who’d used to do the do with Renji, senpai or otherwise. If that made Hisagi his rival, well then fuck him sideways, they're rivals now.

“Oh yeah? Help me how,” he muttered suspiciously. “By blabbering at me about how much Renji likes women? It doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure that one out. Is it supposed to bother me or something?”

“No,” Hisagi denied. “If I could say so, I admire the faith you put in him.”

“You just think I’m fucking _stupid_ for it,” Ichigo growled. "And another thing," he snapped, maybe a bit protectively, "You know, Renji's not some animal living in the jungle that has to fuck everything that smells good, so don't act like he doesn't have any self-control!"

He hates when people talk about Renji like it's inevitable that he'll cheat, like just because he's a man who loves sex means he doesn't have any agency, any thoughts of his own besides those controlled by his libido. Ichigo has more faith in Renji than that, and his friends should too. They should know better than anybody about what kind of heart Renji has.

"You don't get to say you're his friend and still think of him that way, it's fucking awful," Ichigo accused, his temper rising. 

Hisagi held up a hand in placation. “I don't want to get into any of that."

"Well too fucking late, you're the one who brought it up."

"You're right, and I'm sorry for it. It wasn’t right of me to say that he was suffering being leashed to you. That wasn’t what I was trying to get at.” Ichigo snarled - this guy was really starting to piss him off!

“What _were_ you trying to get at then?!”

Hisagi looks into his eyes then, expression dead seriously, and tells him, “All I’m saying is that Renji’s used to a certain degree of excitement.”

Ichigo listened quietly, considering, shoulders slowly lowering. “Oh,” he said at last.

  
He and Hisagi said their goodbyes shortly after, and after meeting Renji and a few coworkers that Ichigo found him eating lunch with - outshining everyone with his stories and charming personality as usual - Ichigo finished his lunch break and headed back to work.  
  


But he kept thinking about it.  
  


He wasn’t mad at Hisagi anymore, but just like before, the thing he’d said _stuck_ weirdly in his brain, popping back in over and over throughout the day. It was even worse this time.

Because despite telling himself that there was no way that bastard could be right and was just looking down at him, some small part of it had gotten to Ichigo, made him wonder if Hisagi was onto something.

After all this time watching Renji flirt and moon over cute girls, yet still bring him home all his love, Ichigo wondered if he’s been selfish somehow or oblivious to Renji’s struggles. _Did_ Renji struggle? Even though Hisagi had told him he hadn’t meant what he’d said about that, the thought had been put in his head now and couldn’t be taken out.

Ichigo had never put Renji’s loyalty in question, always thinking of it as a given that he could trust him to the point where he didn’t worry about it otherwise, didn’t even think about it. But maybe he just hasn’t been paying attention. Maybe it’s been tough for Renji all along and he’s been holding himself back for all this time, only able to flirt.

By the time Ichigo got home that evening and found Renji on the sofa watching TV in his underwear and a t-shirt, his work clothes and briefcase strewn in the front hallway, Ichigo started to wonder if he’d been slacking in their love life. Renji was the romantic one, the one who made an effort, whereas Ichigo just sort of goes with the flow.

He lined Renji’s shoes up and picked up his clothes, threw them in the hamper for him, and then gave him an earful - _‘I told you a million times not to ball up your socks! And quit leaving your good shirts on the floor! Don’t think I’ll iron this for you!’_ \- and then went to start on dinner, but he kept thinking about it. Has he been slacking? After all, he was the envy of who knows how many hundreds of people, having Renji’s love all to himself, and this whole time he’s just been taking it as a given thing.

He’s always just enjoyed his normal life with Renji day to day, in peace and contentment and not a few arguments. But maybe that wasn’t all there was to it, maybe it _shouldn’t_ just be that. Maybe he should be putting a bit more effort into keeping Renji happy, into _exciting_ him.

It’s not that he thinks it’s _hard_ for Renji to be faithful - _he knows Renji loves him_ \- but he did wonder then if maybe Renji got bored some days or wished for his old life back so he could do as he pleased, even in passing. Maybe sometimes. The thought bothered him.

  
Most of all, it’s because Ichigo didn’t like to feel boring. Or predictable.  
  


Hisagi, in his weird maladroit way, seemed to have been trying to urge him to try surprising Renji somehow - which ticked him off a little, because he didn’t want advice from someone who’d used to fuck together with Renji on how to please him, as if he wasn’t pleasing him well enough on his own!

But the thought stuck with him, exciting his boyfriend.

He considered it as he wandered into the house to shower and change, and then back out into the kitchen to get dinner ready. It didn’t look like Renji had made anything for himself yet - he was probably hungry.  
  


 _‘I’ve never done anything like that,’_ Ichigo thought with a frown.  
  


He and Renji pretty much just do it in their room under the covers. Ichigo’d never been given cause to think himself inadequate in bed, what with how obviously Renji seemed to enjoy being with him, but suddenly the doubt was there.

He cooked on his own, moving around the kitchen quietly, scowling deeper and deeper as he listened to Renji’s sports game on the TV and ran the idea around in his mind.

 

 

 

 

Now that he thought about it, they didn’t really change things up very often, do they. Anything out of the ordinary that had gone on between them had come in the passion of their first year together, still learning each other’s bodies, and after that they’d sort of settled into a routine, having figured out what they liked to do best. Ichigo didn’t mind it, always doing it the same, but maybe Renji did.

He’d never considered that before.

It suddenly made a lot more sense, what Hisagi had said about him being just one man and Renji being used to excitement, and it seemed to _click_ and ring true in that moment so much that Ichigo felt a tightening in his chest at the realization. Maybe Hisagi really _was_ right.

 

 

 

 

Startled by his boyfriend’s sudden pleased groaning, Ichigo jumped and glanced behind him to see Renji stretching his arms above his head, half his body sprawled off the couch as he yawned and hummed. When he at last sat up again like a civilized person, he put a hand up his shirt to rub his chest, and glanced at Ichigo, smiling when he found Ichigo was already looking at him.

Reacting with hostility to Renji’s apparent cheerfulness, Ichigo scowled and snapped at him, “Will you quit lazing around and do something productive?”

Responding to his moods in kind as always, Renji rolled his head back and sneered, “Geez, I don’t need you nagging right now.”

“Nagging, my foot!” he hollered back. “I’m over here making your goddamn dinner, so show some appreciation and do some goddamn chores once in awhile!”

“C’mon, I had a long day, Ichigo,” Renji complained, not budging from the couch.  
  


“I don’t wanna’ hear it. Put in a load of laundry.”  
  


“Aw, I hate doing laundry.”  
  


“I said I don’t wanna’ hear it!”  
  


“Later. M’ too tired.”  
  


Ichigo turned back around towards the counter, chopping onions viciously. That fucking lazy piece of shit! Here Ichigo is taking care of him after a fucking _awful_ day spent driving himself insane over some stupid bullshit, and all Renji can say is that _he’s_ tired! Ugh, Ichigo can’t even look at his stupid face!  
  


“You’re getting on my nerves,” Ichigo grit out.  
  


Perhaps picking up on the fact that Ichigo was actually bothered about something, Renji got up to go away somewhere and leave him alone, maybe even to do some laundry like he’d asked, but as Ichigo bit the insides of his cheeks and was about ready to slam his knife down on the cutting board in frustration - _that damn Hisagi, bugging him this much! He wasn’t a bad boyfriend! He wasn’t boring! -_ he felt Renji’s arm around his waist and his cheek pressing into his neck.

“Can I help in here?” he offered, keeping his voice down when he was this close to Ichigo’s ear.

 

 

 

 

 

Ichigo’s shoulders drop, and he huffed and puffed as his anger was immediately soothed. Help in the kitchen sounded really great right now actually, but of course he didn’t say so. Maybe he had just wanted to be comforted and reassured after all but hadn’t known how to ask. He’d let his temper take over again, hadn’t he.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, a little half-hearted smile coaxed onto his lips when Renji nuzzled into his shoulder, putting his other arm around him too to hug him. “Thanks.”

Renji grinned and pecked him on the cheek, and Ichigo swiftly swatted his rear with a snort. “Dumbass,” he muttered. “Put on some pants.” Renji laughed lowly as he washed his hands, wiggling his butt a little more at him as if coaxing him to spank him again, but Ichigo just rolled his eyes.

When Renji moved next to him to help out, Ichigo gave him the job of cooking the eggs, which Renji took with a cute focused expression. “How was your day at work?” Ichigo asked, and Renji immediately launched into an enthusiastic update of the latest office gossip.

Renji was the big brother type - even though, all things considered, he had a lot of his own big brothers too - and it was just like him to take new employees that were below him in the workplace under his wing and look out for them. Ichigo’s been hearing about the new interns for the past month or so, and the way Renji talked about them, it was just like listening to a proud big brother.

Tonight’s update was that apparently, a lot of the interns were either scared shitless of or had crushes on the new department head.

Ichigo listened in contented silence until that point, at which he said, “. . . Wait, did you get promoted or something?”

“. . . “ Renji paused in his story and stared back at him, beginning to smirk. Ichigo perked up, grinning, and punched his boyfriend on the arm in congratulations.

“Whoa, really? You’re department head, that’s great!” He took Renji’s shoulders and threw him around a little, shaking him, getting a headlock and a noogie in return. “Why didn’t you say anything!”

“Was gonna’ surprise you.”

“I’m surprised!” Ichigo laughed. “Damn, you’ve been working so hard that I knew it would pay off sooner or later, but I just thought you’d get a big end-of-year bonus! I didn’t think-” He shook his head, grinning. “Wow, great job! You should be really proud!”

Renji preened a little, clearly pleased with the praise. “Yeah, I’m proud a’ me,” he said, but then nudged Ichigo’s leg with his foot, “But I love hearin’ you’re proud a’ me more.”

“I really am!”

“Proud enough to spoil me a little tonight?” Renji wondered, his smile growing vaguely dirty. Ichigo snorted and hipchecked him.

  
“....”  
  


“My promotion came with a good pay raise,” Renji added, eyes locked on his. That’s right, talk dirty to him. “We’re goin’ on a _nice-ass vacation_ this spring.”

“I’m definitely proud enough.” Ichigo licked his smiling lips with a teasing spark in his eye. Renji licked his own back.

They both started laughing, teasing and pinching each other while they plated their food, and then did footsie - _playfully kicking each other each time the other took a bite -_ at the table while they ate their dinner.

That night, when they lay in bed together under the blanket to keep warm and Renji dragged himself atop him, kissing at his neck, Ichigo placed his hands on Renji’s back and his legs up around his hips as usual, but this time as they began to move together and enjoy each other’s bodies, Ichigo looked at the ceiling and found his mind wandering a lot.  
  


_‘Renji’s used to a certain degree of excitement.’_   
  


Once they finished making love, Renji lifted himself up with a happy exhausted expression, their sweaty bodies peeling apart in the frigid air. Ichigo panted beneath him, throwing an arm over his forehead and letting a long breath whistle out through pursed lips.

“That was great, baby,” Renji sighed, kissing him warmly. “Mm,” he hummed, kissing him again, “You’re so good to me.”

“Don’t overdo it,” Ichigo mumbled, pecking lazily at the lips brushing gently against his.

“Overdo what?”

“You know what,” he growled, the pink in his face brought on from sexual exertion spreading to his ears.

Renji let out a sharp laugh and snuggled him even worse, kissing him on his face repeatedly like a total loser. “If I can’t be sappy with my number one, then who?” he cooed jokingly, but didn’t stop his attack. Ichigo pries a hand inbetween his face and Renji’s and pushes him back, but Renji clings on, still making kissy-lips at him until Ichigo lets go and he smacks back against his face with his hard-ass head.

“Pff’,” Ichigo snorted. Renji laughed back, running his nose softly against Ichigo’s ear.  
  


“I love you, Ichiban.”  
  


“Love you too,” he murmured.  
  


Renji fell asleep soon after they cleaned up and bundled under the blankets, both too chilly to lay around naked in the open air once the fires of passion cooled. He conked out with his head snuggled on Ichigo’s shoulder and arm strapped around Ichigo’s chest. Ichigo’s told him a million times that he’s too damn big to do that, because Renji’s a fucking giraffe and scooting down to rest his head on Ichigo’s chest meant that his feet stuck off the end of the bed _big time,_ but whatever, some nights Renji just insisted on being cuddled like that even if it was December and it meant his feet were gonna’ freeze.

Ichigo watched the motionless ceiling fan for a long time, unable to fall asleep. His mood had improved earlier after the usual attention and affection from Renji worked its magic, but now that he was asleep, Ichigo felt somewhat discontented again.

He was at peace with their monotonous day-to-day routine, he hasn’t stopped loving Renji even in the boring moments, doesn’t get tired of eating dinner with him and making love with him night after night, but. . . What if Renji didn’t feel the same? What if it felt like a complete drag to Renji, every day a mind-numbing repeat of the _same thing,_ over and over, nothing left to interest him?

Hisagi’d suggested as much. Sure, usually he’d say that Hisagi didn’t know dick about their love life anyway, but he wondered then, what if Renji had said something to him, had complained to his buddy about feeling caught in a slump at home, and that’s why Hisagi had told Ichigo what he’d told him?

If that was the case, Ichigo hadn’t had a clue until Hisagi’d dropped those hints. There’d been no detectable changes in Renji’s behavior that Ichigo could tell. He was the same cocky, cheerful, slightly annoying, and altogether loveable slob, and he was just as warm and loving towards Ichigo as ever. There should be no cause for alarm.

But the thought was there - what if he was faking it, what if he was just bearing with it and continuing to put up a good face out of loyalty?

Ichigo ought to do something out of the ordinary, do something nice as a surprise - to reward Renji’s efforts. After all, Ichigo could admit that between the two of them, Renji was probably the better boyfriend. Ichigo ought to spoil him more. 

 _‘You’re being dumb,’_ he told himself, but all the same, he couldn’t seem to drift off, this vague worried feeling stirring in his gut. He wasn’t used to that sensation, feeling insecure.  

At last, glancing at Renji to make sure he was still asleep, he reached out for his phone from the bedside table, and turned it on.

 

 

 

 

At first he didn’t know what to type in, staring at the search bar for a long time, but at last he typed out a couple keywords and came up with some articles detailing ways to spice up one’s sex life. He figured being romantic would do it too, would charm Renji just as much, but maybe Ichigo felt more doubt than he’d admitted to before, and wanted to prove to himself that he could in fact excite Renji in bed if he tried.

Because what Hisagi had said hadn’t been in reference to romance. He’d been talking about sex. It’s always about sex.

He’d never given a thought to whether Renji was satisfied with their sex life before, because it had always seemed obvious enough that he was, but it’s bugging him now, their boring routine. It really shouldn’t, because, unless Renji had mentioned it, which was unlikely, there was no way Hisagi fucking knew what they did in the bedroom.

Besides that, he’s never fucking cared before when people subtly referred to him ‘taming’ Renji and changing him from a beast of the night into an honest man, he’s never fucking cared, but  this time it’s different - _it’s different,_ and in his madness, he holds Renji in one arm and reads those campy articles with the other for twenty or so minutes before his eyes finally close.

By morning when they were getting up and ready for work, Ichigo turned his phone on and saw what he’d been reading the night before.

As he wandered into the kitchen to eat the breakfast Renji’d made for them, he frowned at his phone.   _‘What the fuck… This is trash.’_   He scoffed then and closed the page.

“G’morning!” Renji greeted, voice still raspy from sleep and muffled from his mouth being so full of eggs and rice. Ichigo gave an exasperated sigh at his messy smiling face, but he smiled too.

By the time he was on the train for work, he’d completely forgotten about the whole stupid thing, the articles, Hisagi’s advice, the lot of it.  
  


Yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas shopping with Renji leads Ichigo to a rather discomforting realization about himself. 
> 
> In other news: Hisagi has ruined his life. He'll show that bastard what's what. He is NOT boring.

Christmas and New Years was coming soon, and that meant there was lots to do. That evening they went shopping together after work to get ready for the holidays.

The two of them put together had quite a metric shitton of friends, and in order to see them all, things were going to get pretty hectic towards the end of the year. New Years Eve and New Years would be a really busy couple days of course, not to mention they planned to host this year on Christmas Eve - but they were going to spend a quiet Christmas together, just the two of them. Christmas is for lovers after all.

Ichigo’s already picked out Renji’s gift, a brand new soccer ball and his favorite player’s jersey, but there was still a lot to buy. Today they were just getting some last minute New Years gifts for their friends and coworkers, along with decorations and party supplies for their house.

They were out in a bustling shop arcade, sheltered under the fogged glass dome high above them. It was good fun, walking for what seemed like ages, still unable to see the end of the long row of stores. The holiday spirit always had a way of lifting Ichigo’s mood, and he felt quite happy walking along with Renji, enjoying the music and the bright lights all around them, the snow lightly blowing in from the alleyways intersecting the street. The air was cold and crisp, and their gloved hands were, for once, clasped in a moment of sentimentality as they walked down the long stretch of storefronts.

Ichigo set Renji loose in an entertainment store and separated at some point to get some wrapping paper and gift bags, and once he wandered out to find Renji again, he came across him standing with his hands in his pockets in front of a stretch between two shops that was plastered with a wall-to-wall VS poster of a babe in sexy underwear.

Ichigo took his hand and lead him away, but Renji’s head turned to look up at the poster longer as he absently hummed to the holiday anthems playing from the streetlight speakers. He normally wouldn’t think twice about that kind of thing, as it was a common occurrence, but this time he thought about it for quite a while.

After he sent Renji off to get some giftbaskets to send to their friends living too far away to meet in person for the holidays this year, something really strange happened. He must’ve been so lost in thought that he’d wandered some ways off, and when he finally realized what he was doing, he found himself transfixed by the front window of a lingerie store, set up with cute lacy underwears and nighties. He looked around for a moment or two and then back at the window display, eyes flicking over the sweet little pantie sets and the cute pictures of girls wearing them.

Ichigo swallowed hard, feeling this _thing_ appear inside him, and along with it, an immediate and _fiercely tight_ knot of rejection that formed in the pit of his gut, and it stays there like something bad he ate for the rest of the night, all the way home.

He didn’t say anything about it to Renji, and if Renji sensed his mood, he didn’t say anything either.

He brooded for an hour or so while he made dinner, Renji minding his own business on the sofa, watching a softcore pay-per-view porno on the TV.

That night when they were wrapping gifts and signing cards on the floor in the living room, Ichigo’s inner turmoil at last burst out, and what he said was: “Renji, have you ever touched a boob?”

Renji looked up mildly, replying, “Ichigo. You know I have.”

“Okay, okay, yeah,” Ichigo brushed off, shaking his head a bit too wildly. “But have you ever…. done… the thing?”

Renji narrowed his eyes, nose crinkling along with the crumpled wrapping paper he was so diligently trying - _and failing_ \- to fold and tape in a neat line. “What thing?” he asked, but when Ichigo just pursed his lips and looked away resolutely, Renji’s eyes narrowed further. “. . . Wait, are you talking about paizuri?”

“Don’t say it!” Ichigo yelped, shoulders hunched about his ears. Renji pressed his lips together, but didn’t say anything else, looking at him for a few moments and then giving up on him in order to try again to tear and stick a piece of tape down.  
  


“. . . Okay yeah,” Ichigo admitted once he let his breath out.  
  


“Yes,” Renji told him succinctly.  
  


“Oh.”  
  


“. . .” Renji lifted his face to his again, probably trying to read his expression. He was silent, as if he didn’t know what he was supposed to say at that moment or what Ichigo was getting at. Honestly, Ichigo didn’t know exactly what he was doing either, that hot pit of… - what, _shame? self-hate? disgust? -_ still so heavy inside his gut.  
  
Maybe he was trying to understand, trying to understand what Renji might miss so much.

He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed at this age to even _say_ this kind of stuff out loud to a man he’d been with for over four years, but his shyness towards female sexuality was something he still hadn’t fully outgrown. Figuring he had to just suck it up if he wanted to know so bad, Ichigo managed, “How, how do they feel?”

Renji didn’t tease immediately for once, probably too confused and suspicious, but at least he seemed to be considering his question seriously. After mulling it over for a few seconds, popping his head from side to side, he hummed, “Soft,” adding, “squeezy” after another second of consideration.

“Do you miss it?” Ichigo wondered, and when their eyes met then, it felt like a static shock, startled him. Renji looked at him for a second and then smiled, working hard on his present.

“Yeah. They’re fun,” he told him. “It’s nice to lay your head on them.” He turned the box and tugged the paper a little too hard, reaching for the tape with his other hand. “And they’re fun to play with and squish in your hands,” he chattered. “Plus it’s nice watching them bounce around when-” He stopped short, looking up to find Ichigo looking at him in silence. “Uhhh.” He swallowed, looking away again. “Mm.”

  
“Oh,” Ichigo said quietly after a beat of uncomfortable silence, sitting there in thought.

  
“Yeah…”  
  


“How does, uh… p-” Ichigo grit his teeth and looked away. “How does it feel when you…”

  
Renji gave a small quirk of a smile and a knowing glance. “Paizuri?” Ichigo clamped his lips shut, fit to burst. “Ichigo, you’re twenty-three, why can’t you say it out loud?” Renji teased.

“Geez, quiet down!” Ichigo frantically hushed.

“We’re alone in our home, you jackass!” Shaking his head and giving a long sigh, Renji wondered then, “Why are you saying this stuff all of a sudden?”

Meeting his eyes almost desperately, the sick knot in his stomach tightening to the point of pain, Ichigo nearly shouted, “I just want to know how it feels! Okay?!”

“Ugh,” Renji gave in with a small groan. “Like a cloud… A squishy but firm cloud pressed around your dick. Watching is half of it. It’s mesmerizing, and…” He stopped and looked up, and then put a hand to his eyes and sighed. “....”

  
“What?” Ichigo muttered.  
  


“Let’s stop talking about this.”  
  


“What? Why?”  
  


“I feel uncomfortable talking about this with you.”  
  


He didn’t know what he felt in that moment, maybe hurt, but all that came out of him was a small, “Oh.”  
  


Renji bit his lip for a few moments, then softly wondered, “You’re not upset, are you?” Ichigo furrowed his brow then.  
  


“What? No.”  
  


He wasn’t, but Renji looked guilty and hangdog all the same, and was tightlipped and tense for some time, glancing at him frequently in concern.

When they at last finished wrapping gifts and went to bed, after lying there in silence for some time, Renji rolled on his side towards him, head propped on his elbow, and asked, “Ichigo, did you…” When Ichigo looked up at the strange pause, Renji began again, “Uh… were you trying to ask earlier if you can try it?”

“Huh?” Ichigo had no idea what he was talking about.

Throwing caution to the wind, Renji insisted, “Here, just do it.” He flipped the blankets back off of them and grabbed Ichigo’s dick unceremoniously. Ichigo just stared in surprise for the first couple seconds, but by the time Renji whipped his shirt off, he caught on to what was happening.

“What’re you- _whoa_ _,”_ he mumbled, eyes going round as Renji pressed his bulging chest muscles together and spit down his front to get himself wet, his hand taking Ichigo’s dick out and stroking it fast until it got hard, which took only a couple seconds, staring at, _staring at that kind of display!_

“Here,” Renji breathed, voice raspy, “Get on top of me.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait-” Ichigo squeaked, but Renji had two firm hands under his thighs, and rolled him on top of him, and Ichigo found himself straddling Renji’s chest. He had to grab the headboard for balance, head hanging down between his arms as he stared wide-eyed down at Renji.

 _‘Gaaaah, he’s so buff!’_ Ichigo was captivated, looking at his dick lay there on the stupid squeezable pillow of Renji’s bulging pecs.

“Enjoy yourself to your heart’s content, Ichigo,” Renji invited, looking up at him with a grin, one hand petting Ichigo’s stomach while the other stroked him off against his chest. This was all really sudden, but, but-

“How can I?!” Ichigo sputtered, which got Renji snickering, biting his lip.

“Aw, don’t be shy, baby, I said that you can.” Ichigo stopped looking down, the view of Renji’s smoldering eyes and his plush chest cushioning his dick becoming way too much.

“That’s not why I brought this up before if that’s what you’re thinking!” Ichigo insisted.

“Are you sure?” Renji teased, fisting his cock and marveling, “You’re so excited…” Ichigo gulped then, choking on a moan on his next breath when Renji pressed his chest together and urged him to run his dick along the space between his pecs.

Ichigo let out a shaky sigh. It felt… _really_ nice.

With some encouragement, he thrusted away a little bit on Renji’s chest, it was so nice, so soft yet so firm, pressing his dick against Renji’s plush muscles. He couldn’t watch himself do it for very long, frequently closing his eyes - he couldn’t believe they were doing this, wow, this was wild.

“Oh, my bad,” he mumbled, reaching down to touch Renji’s cheek when he felt that he’d bumped his face with his dick a couple times.

Renji just gave a ferocious grin and grabbed him by the dick hard, slowly pulling on it until Ichigo got the idea and shifted his hips forward until Renji could suck him off.

He only lasted another forty seconds or so, and when he came to climax, Renji pulled back, letting his cum splatter across his chest and his face. Ichigo let out a stuttered moan of surprise. When Renji was through with him, Ichigo flopped back, an arm over his face.

 _‘Shiiiiiit,’_ his brain screamed, his teeth gritted. He felt weak with satisfaction, but also… _‘Fuck. Shit-fuck.’_

“Are you blushing?” Renji realized, beginning to tease immediately. “Wow, you really liked that, huh?” Ichigo didn’t take his arm away from his face, striking out blindly with his other hand to try and push Renji away. “Was that one of your teenage fantasies?” Renji joked.

Ichigo threw his arm down and glared at Renji for a second, splayed out next to him with his cum on his face, grinning like he was hot shit. Face completely pink, Ichigo just muttered, “Sheesh…” He rolled onto his other side and hugged his pillow against his head.

“Too bad you can’t return the favor,” Renji said teasingly, spooning up behind him and feeling at Ichigo’s chest. Ichigo glanced down and watched Renji’s big hands squeeze gently at the bit of flesh around his nipples, which was, admittedly, toned, but not nearly big enough to use for the same thing, just like Renji had just said.

Ichigo frowned, and frowned more when Renji pulled him down to lay on his back and then buried his face in his chest, kissing all over and trying to smother himself, the same he sometimes did on Ichigo’s bottom. It didn’t work - there's not much on Ichigo's chest, lean muscle that it was, to smother himself with.

"Will you knock it off already?!" he snapped, putting up a token protest and shoving on Renji's head, but not nearly enough to really  _make_ Renji let go. "You are such a fucking moron, quit motorboating!" Renji did, but let out a long content sigh, face still firmly planted between his nipples. "Ugh," Ichigo groaned, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, sorry if I upset you earlier,” Renji said when he finally popped up for air. He was still thinking about that?

“You didn’t, I told you,” Ichigo repeated flatly.

“I know, but…” Renji traced a finger on Ichigo’s collarbone absently. When he started to pout, Ichigo reached out and pinched his lower lip, which Renji shook his head to get free of. “Never mind,” he sighed, smiling after a moment.

He rested his chin on Ichigo’s chest for a second. “You’re too good to a scamp like me, Ichigo.” He pulled Ichigo’s forelock and then rolled off him, to go wipe himself off in the bathroom.

Ichigo waited until he came back and got comfortable next to his side, pulling the blankets back up. Kissing him goodnight, Renji mumbled, “Night, stud.”

Ichigo put his arm around Renji’s shoulders, hand resting on his head, his long soft hair. Renji fell asleep first, and once he did, Ichigo pushed the blanket off a little and stared down at his chest. Carefully taking his arm out from under Renji’s neck, he made sure Renji was completely asleep, and then placed the heels of his hands near his armpits and tried to push his chest muscles together.  
  


_‘No good.’_ Ichigo grimaced. He’s not buff like Renji is.  
  


He let go and snorted. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that kind of thing to himself. Ichigo looked back at Renji again, fast asleep on his side with a hand on Ichigo’s stomach. He looked so peaceful.

Ichigo frowned, moving a piece of hair off Renji’s face.  
  


_‘All I’m saying is that he’s used to a certain degree of excitement.’_  
  


He grit his teeth and put a hand to his eyes, rubbing them hard. He ought to do something nice for Renji. What, that Hisagi thought he couldn’t get Renji going? Ichigo felt upset at that thought, stubbornly setting his jaw. As if!

He settled in again, lying on his back, Renji’s breathing soothing him. Ichigo imagined trying to excite his boyfriend, do something to really get him going. What would he even do? He knew Renji liked him just how he was, he’d never had a reason to doubt that, but maybe he just wasn’t equipped to really thrill him.

Maybe, through no fault from both parties, there was a certain charm that a woman had that Renji was attracted to, something Ichigo just didn’t have. Maybe if Ichigo figured out what that charm was, what Renji liked and missed most about women, if he figured out what Renji’s type of woman was, he’d be closer to understanding.  
  


Yeah, that’s right. He’ll fucking show that Hisagi.


	4. Chapter 4

Ichigo’s mission to figure out Renji’s type of woman wasn’t an easy one.

He did his best to research and study his subject. He diligently sat with Renji while he watched reruns of the VS fashion show. He researched Renji’s favorite gravure idols and studiously read through Renji’s whole stash of porn mags, even the really filthy ones that he half-covered his face through, scandalized.

Through all of this, he concluded… Renji’s type of woman was . . .

         Really womanly. Ergo, not him at all.

After a few days of this, he decided to talk to Renji about it directly. It wasn’t like his boyfriend was particularly shy about sex or topics concerning.

“Hey Renji, what turns you on?” Ichigo asked him directly, when they were eating dinner together.

“You do,” Renji replied, not missing a beat. Ichigo hummed a little, and in all honesty, he’d probably expected an answer like that.  
  
“So you don’t… fantasize at all?” he went on. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t, with all those porns you like.”

Renji shrugged, not seeming to think much of it. “Well, not really… I’ve got you right here, don’t I?”

“No, I mean… not about me either? You don’t imagine anything… anything…” Ichigo couldn’t quite get the words out right, and was sure that he wasn’t getting the point across clearly.  
  
“Oh. Sure I do. I think about you a lot when I’m missin’ you, I guess.” Ichigo sighed. They ate in silence for a few minutes, Renji’s feet idly playing with his under the table.

“Do you ever miss being with women?” he came out with, as if expecting Renji to be shocked and chagrined.

He hardly got any reaction - Renji just chewed for a while thoughtfully. “Sometimes,” he said, between bites. “I like them a lot. How they talk. Their clothes. I dunno’ exactly what it is. Maybe it’s this feeling I get when I’m with them, y’know, of being comforted.” He thought for a little longer. “And they’re so pretty to look at.”

Ichigo snorted, but agreed.

“Lipgloss, perfume,” Renji hummed. “Jewelry and high heels.” He smiled. Ichigo smiled back.

“Man, you’re such a sucker,” Ichigo mumbled, smiling as he listened. Other than wanting to understand Renji better, part of him was interested regardless. He’d never been with a girl.

There’s still some remaining mystery and innocent fluttery feeling in his gut when he thought about it, still lingering from his adolescence. Though he was still hestitant to talk about or look at those kinds of things, he saw the appeal of being with a girl - so soft and gentle, but so strong, enduring, comforting, like Renji said. He didn’t know if it was mommy issues or what, but nothing made him feel better when he was upset than the women in his life, Rukia in particular - other than Renji, of course.

“Pff’, maybe,” Renji conceded, laughing a little and looking down at his plate. He took a few more bites and a large breath. “I miss boobs,” he went on, “Damn, I miss boobs. . . “

Ichigo mildly picked at his plate, munching on his remaining veggies. “I miss sticking my head under a skirt, I guess. That’s really fun,” Renji continued. “One thing I _don’t_ miss,” he noted, “Fucking post-orgasm afterguilt.” He shuddered.

“What? Why?” Ichigo wondered curiously.

“Cumming inside is scary even with a condom on,” Renji groaned, digging around at the bottom of his bowl for the last bites of rice. “I’m serious, Ichigo, there’s no way I don’t have kids out there somewhere that I just don’t know about yet.” He seemed to have realized what he’d said right after he’d said it, because he froze and set his bowl down, staring at Ichigo in surprise, mouth open.

“. . . “ Ichigo stared at him, then slowly moved his chopsticks to his mouth.

“I shouldn’t’ve said that,” Renji said quietly, gritting his teeth. Ichigo chewed silently. He reached out a hand, eyebrows scrunching up. “Baby, I’m sorry. I took that too far,” he pleaded.  
  


“Why are you apologizing, I’m not mad,” Ichigo said in confusion, nudging Renji’s gentle fingers away from his elbow.  
  


“I know, but…” Renji gazed at him with these big sad eyes that cried, _‘sorry, sorry!’_  
  


“It’s really okay, I brought it up.”  
  


Even so, Renji was absurdly nice for the rest of the night - which he only did when he felt really bad about something. It didn’t help though.  
  


Ichigo still wasn’t jealous after hearing any of that stuff, but he did feel a little sad seeing Renji get that enthusiastic about the things he missed, full well knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to do any of that stuff again - not while they were together at least.

Far from making him feel better, he was even more at a loss for what to do next. He didn’t know what he’d hoped to accomplish, asking Renji that kind of thing. Maybe he’d thought he could replace that void in Renji’s life, but he realized now that it probably wasn’t possible.

For the first time since being with Renji, he felt somewhat discouraged, maybe even a little unloved. He didn’t like feeling down on himself like that, and in the following days, he complained to Rukia about it.

After she’d listened to him for a while across the cafeteria table, she said, “I’ve never known you to get jealous.”

Ichigo huffed, pushing his cucumber sandwich away from him and leaning his head in the crook of his elbow, hand flopping backwards over his hair. “I’m not. I just want to do something… nice for him,” he muttered, looking away, picking idly at the hair around his ear. “But when I started thinking about what he might like, I dunno’... I guess it just hit me. I’m not his type of girl.”

“Ichigo,” Rukia said solemnly. “You’re not a girl.” Ichigo groaned and rolled his eyes and picked his head up, but only enough to shove it into his hands, mushing his face around. “Renji knows that,” she insisted. “I don’t know why I even have to say that to you, honestly.” She raised a fist and told him with gusto, “Attract him with your manliness!”

“Ugh, stop being embarrassing,” he muttered, taking a vicious bite of his food, glaring around.

“You’re the only one who’s embarrassed here.”

He sighed, flinging his sandwich around as he talked. “I mean, I know he likes both… _things,”_ he gestured vaguely, “but he seems to have a pretty clear preference.” He thought back to Renji’s porn stash: fifty or so picture books of sexy babes wearing and doing anything under the sun, and a single men’s sports magazine.

“He’s less subtle about liking women, that’s all,” Rukia dismissed. “It doesn’t mean he’s not just as much of a sucker for your charms.”

 _‘What charms?’_ he thought miserably, and his face probably showed it, because Rukia pointed a finger in his face.

“What charms,” he mumbled. “Even if he does like guys equally, the type of guy he likes is way more buff than I am.” Not just buff, all the guys in that magazine Renji had were fucking _stacked,_ much closer to Renji’s build than his own.

“You’re focusing too much on what you think he likes when he _clearly_ likes you just fine,” she said harshly. “More than fine, I’d say. That’s why he’s with you. He chose you and your swimmer's body over everybody in the world.”  
  


“I did track, not swim."

  
"Ichigo."  
  


"I know, I know, okay.”  
  


“Do you?” She narrowed her eyes.  
  


“Yeah, lay off.”  
  


Okay, so Rukia was no help. Trying to make him feel better about himself and telling him he was being silly - he already _knew_ that, so what did he _do_ about it, huh?

Ugh, this was all Hisagi’s fault. It’d never even crossed his mind in four years to feel insecure in their relationship, let alone their sex life, but now that the thought was there, it keeps growing and fucking shit up.

It’s pissing him off now. He’ll show that fucker. He can excite Renji, he knows he can! He’ll blow Renji’s mind! Guy won’t even know what hit him!

What’s his plan then?

He imagined trying to excite Renji, and after thinking on it for a long time, he decided that he’d have to do something out of the ordinary… something… _freaky._

Rukia might be right that he should stop comparing himself to girls and just work with what he had - but he didn’t really have any ideas of how to excite Renji with just…  _h_ _imself._ He’d never been very creative.  
  


That meant turning to the internet again.  
  


Renji must’ve been working overtime because he wasn’t there when Ichigo got home, which gave him an opportunity to get on his laptop in private. As a starting point, he searched what he’d been looking at before, those dumb articles. He read through the lists more carefully this time, and inadvertently discovered the world of kinks.

He read and read until Renji got home and even then he kept running the ideas over in his mind. He hunched his shoulders in as he thought about trying any of those things with his boyfriend.

Would Renji like anything weird?

Getting stepped on? Dressing up? _Ropes?_ . . . Feeding each other? . . . _._

Fuck, all of them seemed pretty racey even though he knew from the lists he’d looked at of exciting ways to spice things up, that those were all very vanilla ‘kinks’ - if they could even be called that - in comparison to some others.

Since he’d worked up his determination to try something, he supposed he had to choose _something_ , and as a start, he settled on dressing up, because if he thought about it he actually had some first-hand confirmation that Renji seemed to really like that. He got in a strange mood when Ichigo came home still in his scrubs and didn’t change out of them right away. He’d get all spoony with him, affectionate, rubbed up against him a lot and squeezed him in his arms.

Not to mention Renji’d actually told him before that back when they were still both in college doing sports, that seeing him in his track outfit got him hot like nothing else.

If Ichigo was honest, he knew the feeling. Even _thinking_ about Renji wearing his… _Ugh, he can’t even think about it, his ears were already turning pink._

Yeah, that’s it, it’s decided. He’ll dress up for Renji, wear something to really drive him wild.

Feeling resolved in his new plan, Ichigo’s first thought was to just get some new underwear, but then the words came back to him: _“I miss sticking my head under a skirt.”_  
  
For a moment, he imagined getting a skirt, wearing it, and felt ridiculous.

Renji had said he missed doing that, but with _Ichigo_ wearing it, wouldn’t that just be weird? Totally unsexy. It won’t look right on him anyways, probably…

He felt weird all over just thinking about it, that knot forming in his gut again, his hands shaking just slightly over the keyboard. Shit, why was he sweating so much?  
  


He could try it. Renji might really like it . . .  
  


Ichigo browsed some more, mouth dry, finding some racey adult websites for couples, and at last landed on something that caught his eye: pink, lacey, cute - _very cute_ _._ It was something that he knew Renji would _die_ over if it were on a VS angel or a gravure idol, but in the end as his cursor hovers over the purchase button, he just can’t go through with it and buy it.  
  


_‘Just because Renji would like it doesn’t mean he’d like it on_ me _.’_  
  


Ichigo swallowed and calmed himself down, digging a fist into his gut. Goddamn, his stomach was going crazy. He didn’t know why he was getting so worked up, thinking about wearing that and Renji touching him, taking it off him.

It excites him, but he also felt an overpowering sense of revulsion, _humiliation._ It made his stomach hurt, so tight with nerves that he was giving himself cramps just thinking about it.  
  


_‘Just don’t think about it then. It’s some stupid hangup. It’ll go away.’_  
  


In the end he got himself some expensive new underwear. Initially he hadn’t felt nervous about wearing something like that for Renji, they were just really nice boxer briefs, but now that he’d looked at all that other stuff, he felt nervous somehow.  
  


_‘He’ll love it. He’ll love it,’_ he told himself, but the sick feeling remained. _‘I’m a pathetic boyfriend, what, I can’t even dress sexy once in my life without throwing up?’_  
  


But that wasn’t the problem and he knew it. That wasn’t what was making him feel like this, what was putting that knot there.  
  


He shut his laptop and made to go into their bedroom, but when he opened the door Renji quickly called, “Hey, don’t come in here! I’m wrapping your gift!” Ichigo closed the door, standing just outside with his hand still on the handle.

“. . .” He wiped his clammy palm on his pants and took a breath, but his voice got stuck in his throat. He tried again, “Tell me that stuff beforehand!”

“Get out! I’m almost done!”

Ichigo managed a smirk and wandered back out into the kitchen. He’d just have to do his best.  
  


_‘He’ll like it. I’ll knock his socks off. Or his pants at least.’_


	5. Chapter 5

The underwear came a few days later.

When Renji was out with friends one night, Ichigo took the opportunity to open the box and try them on in front of the bathroom mirror, curious.

  
They were still masculine, nothing like the underwears he’d seen in the shopping arcade, but they were fashionable and they looked good. They ought to - they were pretty pricey.

  
Ichigo’s usual underpants were brightly-patterned briefs that slid under his slim-fit pants. They were a step-up though, and looked more like something Renji would wear himself.

  
Ichigo put them on in front of the mirror and looked at himself.

 

 

 

 

They felt… great, actually. He looked almost like an underwear model wearing them; he felt hot. Deep purple and smooth as sin, the fabric stretched on his thighs, and a thick elastic waistband with the brand name emblazoned across it hugged his hips. He looked _good_.  
  
He put his hands on his hips and looked at himself, twisting at the waist. He smiled in self-satisfaction. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, feeling like an attractive man, and he spent a few moments admiring himself, even flexed his abs for a few seconds.  
  
Renji was gonna’ love this! Honestly, he loved it too. He didn’t know why he hadn’t bought this sooner, he ought to have one or two really nice pairs.  
  
Now that he was all set, he didn’t know how he was going to bring it up to Renji, and that made him sort of uncertain. The thought of breaking the subject filled him with anxiety. He didn’t think he could just tell him, whisper to him over dinner, _‘Hey, guess what I’ve got on right now.’_  
  
Even if he wasn’t particularly insecure in the bedroom - or hadn’t used to be, at least - he’s never been bold when it came to sex, and he didn’t think he could pull off doing something like that. He knew that although sex appeal relied primarily on appearance, there was more to it than that. He needed _confidence,_ and he didn’t want to ruin the whole thing by being too shy.  
  
Should he go all the way and come into the bedroom like this, or should he just go to sleep early wearing nothing else and wait for Renji to come home and see him when he pulled back the blanket - _wait for Renji to see him and ravish him._ That way he wouldn’t have to _talk_ about it, wouldn’t have to say anything to him. Ichigo’s never been good at talking about those things.  
  
  
Finally, he decided he’d wear them on Christmas Eve. He’s going to be the first gift of Christmas.  
  
  
Even though Renji probably wouldn’t think much of seeing a new underwear laying around, Ichigo rolled them up and carefully hide them in one of his thermal socks until the night of their Christmas party.  
  
His plan stayed on his mind with a strange combination of exhilaration and nervousness. At least that knot was gone, had fled after he’d tried the underwear on and loved how they made him look.  
  
  
At last, it was Christmas Eve.  
  
  
They’d spent all of last night decorating their apartment with paper snowflakes and strings of golden fairy lights. They’d made plates of snacks for the party - the crowning achievement was a beautiful christmas cake that they’d painstakingly frosted together. They’d even made a mixtape together of all their favorite songs.  
  
They were going to be at Ikkaku’s for New Years, so this was their chance to get together with their other buds before then. Renji’d invited a couple of his own friends over, but it was mostly Ichigo’s coming tonight. He was still a little sad that Chad hadn’t been able to come from Mexico this year, but Ishida, Inoue, and Keigo had made it - and Rukia was there too, of course.  
  
Hosting and having people come to their house always low-key stressed Ichigo out - it probably had something to do with all the times people had barged into his room uninvited in highschool. Once everyone got there and had taken their shoes and coats off in the entryway and gotten inside to come join the party, he settled down enough to have fun. He ate snacks with everyone and such, talked happily with his old highschool buddies, and kissed Renji under the mistletoe after being bullied into it by Rukia and his other friends, who started to catcall and whistle encouragement when they caught on to what was happening.  
  
His only problem was that Hisagi’s been staring at him all damn night. It’s getting on his nerves, but he’s not having it out with him tonight. He’s not gonna’ let that fuck ruin his Christmas Eve. If he gets all upset over some bullshit, it’ll ruin his plan. He and Renji are going to have a nice evening with their friends and then Ichigo was going to surprise him and they were going to make love all night. Hisagi can stare all he fucking wanted.  
  
Ichigo relaxed on the couch with Inoue, who was telling him about the bakery she was working at and all the amazing sweets she’d learned how to make - _so much chocolate!!_ \- but he made sure to keep an eye on things, empty plates of snacks, empty glasses, or groups that were getting a little too rowdy near breakable things. Renji had forgotten his responsibility as a host, bless him, having too much fun with his friends in a board game, Rukia close by his side.  
  
_‘He’s too carefree,’_ Ichigo scolded mentally, but gave him a fond look anyway.  
  
“Ichigo!” Ichigo shook his head, snapping out of it when he found Renji had twisted around and was calling for him. He held up his empty glass. “We still have OJ?”  
  
“I think. I’ll check. Gimme’.” He stood up from the couch. “One sec’, Inoue.” He retrieved his boyfriend’s glass and on his way to the kitchen, grabbed a couple more dirty plates to set in the sink.  
  
He poured Renji another glass when he found the rest of the orange juice sitting on the counter and then threw the carton away, humming idly to the christmas music they had playing through the house.  
  
Ichigo heard someone come into the kitchen behind him, but, figuring it was just Renji, didn’t pay any mind, instead checking on the coconut ice he had carefully chilling in the fridge. Ugggh, he and Renji had tried to make this multiple times and it hadn’t turned out, but this time it looked like a success. They looked so good! Made him so pumped up he wanted to put his fist through the wall, in a good way. He’s glad they decided to do the food coloring after all.  
  
“Dude, they look great,” Ichigo mumbled, straightening up and taking the glass dish out of the fridge, moving it to the counter and peeling off the plastic wrap. He took one of the little half-white half-pink cubes out and tried it. “Ugggh, so cute. They turned out great.”  
  
Okay, that wasn’t Renji, because the guy in the room with him hadn’t said shit about their coconut ice, and that wasn’t like Renji at all to be uninterested in the state of their baked goods. Ichigo looked up, chewing on it, seeing Hisagi standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Ichigo grimaced, narrowing his eyes when the guy stepped in upon being seen.

  
“Hi,” Ichigo said when Hisagi just awkwardly stood there.

  
He figured all the staring from earlier meant Hisagi had something more to say to him, which he wasn’t so eager to hear. He knows that this conversation, whatever it is, is going to end with him thoroughly pissed off.  
  
He knows that Hisagi and Renji had slept together at one point or another. They’ve never outright said it, but he knows, and although Ichigo’s not a jealous guy, he didn’t appreciate Hisagi’s concern that he wasn’t keeping Renji satisfied. What, was he bragging that Renji had enjoyed whatever sex life they’d had in the past and was rubbing it in Ichigo’s face?  
  
_‘They probably did all kinds of freaky shit,’_ he thought suddenly, and it wasn’t like him to do so, to speculate about that time in Renji’s life - and for the first time thinking about Renji’s past, Ichigo saw red over it, staring Hisagi in both eyes and gritting his teeth.  
  
That guy thinks he’s cool, huh? He’s more experienced and dangerous, and has some sort of bad boy aesthetic going - he thinks he’s better than Ichigo?  
  
  
“Hi,” Hisagi said back shortly, clamming right back up. Ichigo’s had _enough._  
  
  
“You gonna’ keep fucking staring at me all night or are you gonna’ fucking say what you’re gonna’ say,” he snapped, but kept his voice down. No need to attract attention and ruin the night by fighting at their party. What concerned him more was keeping Renji out of this - his boyfriend was the last person who needed to know about these conversations. He knew how much Renji admired Hisagi and valued their friendship, and hearing about this would just upset him.  
  
  
“I’m not looking for a fight,” Hisagi told him, not reacting to his hostility. Ichigo hated how he looked at him, like he was some hotheaded little kid who couldn’t control his emotions.  
  
  
“Don’t act like you weren’t looking to upset me,” Ichigo accused. “I’m upset.” He turned around and took out the few remaining dishware that they had left to plate the coconut ice with.  
  
  
“You think I’m not enough for him,” he growled. “You think I’m not good enough. So just say it.”  
  
  
“It’s nothing to do with you or whether you’re good enough. It’s just how he is,” Hisagi said carefully, gritting the words out.

  
“What did you say?!” Ichigo got in his face, mouth contorting with rage. Hisagi didn’t back away, even at the close proximity.

  
“I’m saying, however you look at it, although I admire his resolve and dedication, it’s probably only a matter of time.”

  
The nerve of this guy, talking to him like that! What really got under his skin was that he was insulting Renji too. “Matter of time, my ass! Are you serious right now?! It’s been over four years, when are you people going to quit gossipping? What, has he said something to you or something?”

  
“No.”

  
“Then mind your own goddamn business! You’re full of shit!” No matter how Ichigo shouted at him, Hisagi wouldn’t raise his own voice, wouldn’t react, like he was a toddler whose tantrum wasn’t worth bothering with - it was infuriating him.

  
“If you really thought I was full of shit, you wouldn’t be getting so ticked right now.”

  
“That’s what you think!” Ichigo shouted, god, he wants to punch him, right in his serious, composed, _ass_ of a face! “. . . Whatever, fuck off already!”

  
He pushed back from him with a harsh growl, shoving his way out of the kitchen, right into Renji. He must’ve attracted attention after all with his fucking temper. It’s not that big of an apartment, and his voice travels when he's mad.  
  
  
“Ichigo, you okay?”

  
“I’m fine,” he growled. “Get the coconut ice off the counter, it’s ready to serve.”

  
“... My orange juice?”

  
“Get it your goddamn self.”

  
“. . . Are you sure you’re okay? What pissed you off? You were having a good time earlier.”  
  


“I said I’m fine. Leave it,” he grit out.  
  
  
Renji looked at him for a moment like he wasn’t convinced, but after glancing to the kitchen and then back to him for another second or two, he let it go. He went into the kitchen to fetch the coconut ice dutifully, and Ichigo glared after him, meeting the eyes of Hisagi, who was acting like nothing had happened at all. “What’re you doin’ holed up in here, Senpai?” Renji asked.  
  
“Nothing. Just thanking the host.” Hisagi raised his eyebrows at Ichigo, who, seized with the urge to throttle him, puffed himself up with a barely contained yell of frustration. Renji was still standing there at the counter though, so all Ichigo could do was whip around and storm back into the living room, leaving the two of them in there.  
  
  
_‘That ass, ruining my goddamn mood!’_ Ichigo fumed.

  
He managed to get a place on the sofa again next to Inoue, who’d thankfully saved his seat for him, but despite Inoue’s best efforts to cheer him up, he didn’t feel so talkative anymore. It took Rukia around two minutes to notice his stormy expression and approach him, perching on the armrest next to him.  
  
“Why do you look so nervous?” she wondered bluntly, even though to anyone else, he probably looked furious.  
  
Ichigo grit his teeth. He _was_ furious. . . but… maybe she might be right. That's probably why he'd gotten so infuriated so quickly over a load of bullshit - it must be nerves talking. “Oh!” she held up a finger in realization after taking her face out of her cup of eggnog. “I know. You’re anxious for everyone to leave. Are you two gonna’ get it on?” she said knowingly.  
  


“Shut up.”

  
“You are!” she crowed gleefully, and he hushed her harshly. “You have something planned, don’t you.”

  
“I said shut up. And wipe your mouth, you’ve got a mustache.”

  
“What’re you gonna’ do?” she teased, and he just swatted at her in annoyance.

  
“None of your business.”

  
Rukia sipped her drink and bit into a cube of coconut ice that had made its way around to them. They glanced over the back of the couch to find Renji looking in their direction concernedly, but he didn’t approach them. “You shouldn’t let that Hisagi-san bother you, Ichigo.”  
  
“How did you know,” he grumbled. “Like he could bother me anyways.”  
  
“He’s probably just trying to help. It’s not like him to act out of malice,” she said reasonably, and Ichigo knows that deep down, knows he’s being oversensitive and blowing everything out of proportion, but his immediate emotional reaction was to lash out. He didn’t want help from that guy.  
  
  
“I don’t care what he’s acting out of, I want him to get the fuck out of my face.”

  
“You guys were getting along so well for such a long time, I don’t know why you’re acting like this all of a sudden. Why are you letting it get to you? Honestly.” Her eyes drilled into his, and Ichigo broke the stare, and in a second flat, the knot was there and had tightened itself viciously to the point where he felt like vomiting.

  
Because he knew the reason.

  
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he deflected.

  
“Fine,” she let it drop. “But cheer up. The host shouldn’t look so grumpy. Besides, whatever you do, Renji will love,” she assured. Ichigo’s shoulders relaxed and he felt better, the knot releasing.

  
“I know,” he mumbled.

  
“What are you going to do?” she pestered again.

  
_“None of your business!”_  
  


He managed to have a good time before the night was over, mood improving. Rukia was good like that.  
  
Once everyone finally left, once they’d hugged everyone and thanked them all for coming - even Hisagi, because no one could say Ichigo’s mom hadn’t taught him manners - wished them ‘happy holidays and a good New Years, get home safe,’ and then cleaned everything up, it was pretty late.  
  
They flopped down in bed together side by side, still fully dressed. Staring at the ceiling for a few moments in exhaustion, they let out a long sigh at the same time, which made Renji laugh a little bit. Ichigo smiled too.  
  
  
“We’ve got a great family,” he sighed. Ichigo hummed in agreement.

  
“Yeah.”

  
“Did you have a good time? You looked ticked earlier,” Renji mumbled, fingers playing gently on the edge of Ichigo’s sweater. Ichigo sat up, stretching.

  
“I was just stressed out,” he dismissed. “You know how I get.”

  
Renji wasn’t convinced. “Rukia told me that you and Shuuhei-senpai got into it.”

  
“Who asked her,” Ichigo grumbled. He didn’t want to talk about this.

  
“I did. I tried to check on you myself but you pretty much bit my head off, and the hosts don’t need to fight at their own party,” Renji summed up. “So I asked her.”  
  
“Mm.” Shrugging noncommittally, he hoped Renji would just forget about it, because he really didn’t feel like talking about this.  
  
No such luck. Face pinched in concern, Renji sat up next to him and wondered, “Ichigo, did he say something to you?”

  
“It doesn’t matter.”

  
“You can tell me,” Renji murmured softly, and Ichigo looked away, avoiding his warm brown eyes.

  
“It’ll just upset you, and there’s no point in getting you mad at your friend.”

  
Renji was silent for a beat, and then, even more determined, insisted, “Ichigo, what happened?” When Ichigo wouldn’t spill, Renji huffed in frustration, “You know if you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna’ assume the worst.”

  
“It’s not a big deal.”

  
“Would you rather I confront him myself?”

  
“I’m not responsible for what you do.”

  
“What did he say to you?” Renji insisted stubbornly, face set into something dark and protective.

  
“Don’t worry about it,” Ichigo sighed at last, flopping back down on the bed. “At least not tonight. I just want to relax.” Renji reluctantly let the matter drop and laid back down next to him on his side.  
  
Ichigo rolled a little and threw his leg onto Renji’s hip, smiling at him. Renji smiled back, getting on top of him and tickling him a little. Squeaking and drawing his shoulders up around his ears to shield his neck from any attacks, Ichigo struggled against him, and they wrestled a little bit, flinging each other around the bed. He eventually got the upper hand, sitting like king of the hill atop Renji’s chest, heaving for breath, smiling in smug satisfaction.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Renji whispered with a grin, eyes glittering in the dark of their bedroom. Ichigo supposed that it was late enough that it probably counted as Christmas - it was long past midnight.  
  
Renji puckered up and Ichigo leaned down and gave him a long warm kiss. He tasted like strawberry christmas cake, and in that moment in the dark, in Renji’s sweet embrace, Ichigo felt consumed by love for him.  
  
  
When they parted, Renji murmured with a smile, “Can I open my gift?”

  
“No. Wait ‘till morning,” Ichigo said firmly.

  
“I meant you,” Renji breathed, and Ichigo can see his teeth gleaming in a smile even with the lights off, can feel his fingers brushing against his hips.

  
“Don’t be dumb,” Ichigo scoffed at his boyfriend’s teasing.

  
Gripping Ichigo’s hips fully, Renji pulled on him a little, pressing against him where he was seated on his lap. “Is that a no then?”  
  
Ichigo bit his lip. He’d had this vague plan of trying to seduce Renji on his own, but this worked too. “... Do what you want,” he muttered at last.  
  
Renji let go of him, practically throwing him off in his eagerness to start undressing, tossing his clothes around the room - his christmas sweater, his lounge pants, his t-shirt, his socks. He practically tripped getting his underwear off when he hopped off the bed and went to bring the lights up to around twenty percent, still quite dim.

 _‘Perfect,’_ Ichigo thought, palms sweaty with anticipation, sitting alone on the mattress and taking off his own clothes more slowly, slipping his pants off and kicking them to the floor. Renji, having returned at exactly the right moment to see him unzip, laid in wait atop the covers, watching him undress like a tiger in the grass. Ichigo can see the goosebumps rising on his lover’s back in the cold air, the smooth expanse of his muscled back gleaming golden and deep violet in the low light.  
  
He knew he looked hot like this, wearing these, and Renji’s eyes trailing over him set his blood on fire. He wasn’t used to feeling this sexy, almost didn’t know what to do with the sudden power he felt he had. Renji’s eyes were fucking _glued_ to him. Shit, he’s turned on.  
  
Breath shaky, Ichigo got up on his knees in front of him while he lifted his arms to take off his shirt. Renji propped himself on his elbows and reached a hand out to his hip, and whistled - _whistled._  
  
“Nice,” he murmured, “When’d you get those?” Ichigo practically squirmed, pleased that Renji had noticed.  
  
_‘He likes them, shit, he likes them,’_ he thought, head spinning as Renji came closer, as if magnetized by the sight of him.  
  
He brushed it off, “Ahh, a little while back.” He smiled a little bit. “Like ‘em?” He jutted his hips forward, feeling a little more confident in showing himself off at the grin on Renji’s face and the appreciative hands running over the fabric on his legs and hip.

“Yeah,” Renji agreed. “Aw, baby, you look sexy,” he breathed, and Ichigo felt absurdly pleased.  
  
Once Ichigo leaned down and kissed on him a little, sliding atop him, it only took a hot second for Renji to be all over him, taking a generous handful of his ass, squeezing. His fingers slid so nice on the material, his hand gripping his bottom, his thigh, the other cupping and squeezing his cock in the front.  
  
“Mmm,” Renji hummed, rolling him over suddenly and shoving his face into Ichigo’s crotch, his breath puffing through his underwear, warm and insistent. He licked up the front on the well-supported bulge, the fabric dragging enough against his tongue that it allowed him to press quite firmly. Oh, that felt nice...  
  
Renji’s fingers hook into the thick waistband, sliding around and teasing him, and at the hungry look in his eyes as he peppered Ichigo’s groin with wet kisses and bites, Ichigo mentally fist-pumped.

  
Sexy boxer briefs: that one was a win.

  
_‘Take that, Hisagi.’_


	6. Chapter 6

When they woke up later on Christmas morning, they took a lazy day to themselves.

They got cozy in some comfortable clothes and brought the kotatsu out to cuddle together in the living room. Renji laid with his legs under the heated blanket while they opened their presents up on the floor.

Ichigo loved to watch Renji open gifts from him on Valentine’s and his birthday. The look of joy on his face made him feel so warm inside. Today though, Renji was really excited when he opened up his present and saw what he’d gotten. He put the jersey on right away over his sweater, even though he looked totally stupid - Ichigo informed him so. He cursed that there was snow and ice outside or he’d go play with the soccer ball right away out on the street. Ichigo promised to go play with him in the lot near their house as soon as it got a little warmer.

Renji’s gift to him was some  _really nice_ chocolates and what looked like a jewelry box. When Ichigo opened it, he found a silver chain with a tiny skull on it. There were some different metal doodads in the box with it: a little heart, a tangerine, a shark tooth.  
  


“What is this?” Ichigo asked, picking it up and dangling it in the light.

   
“I dunno’, you’re the stylish one. It’s for your bracelet collection,” Renji snorted, but Ichigo saw the pinch to his brow. “Don’t you like it?” he mumbled after a moment.  
  


“Yeah.”  
  


Renji perked up. “I knew you would!” he crowed, beaming. Ichigo snickered as Renji scooted towards him, laying on his side so he could poke around in the box to show him. “There’s some other charms in there so you can pick your favorite ones.”  
  


“Oh.”  
  


“Everything I picked out made me think of you.” Ichigo smiled, positive that he looked completely stupid, because that’s how he felt inside; warm and stupid. It was totally like Renji to do something that dumb and sweet.  
  


“There’s a shoe in here,” Ichigo pointed out flatly. “Shoes make you think of me?”  
  


“That’s a running shoe, you jackass!” Renji shouted hotly, as if offended that Ichigo would say something so idiotic. “You did track and field!”

“Oh yeah.” Ichigo smiled and picked through the little charms. With a start, he saw something that absolutely melted him.  _“Aww,_ there’s even a little pterodactyl in here, just like our-!”

“Our first date, seeing Radon: Giant Sky Monster,” Renji finished. Ichigo stared at it for a couple seconds.  
  


“Dude, I love this,” he said.  
  


“Good.”  
  


“I love you.”  
  


“Same.”  
  


They cuddled a little under the kotatsu and drank warm tea together, peeling oranges and feeding each other in front of the TV. Eventually Renji got up and happily kicked his soccer ball around the room as much as he dared with Ichigo suspiciously watching him and warning him not to overdo it.

“I won’t!” he insisted, “I just wanna’ try it out!”

At some point Ichigo joined, and they kicked it back and forth to each other in the hallway for a while and talked.

Ichigo thought back to last night as he watched Renji try to bounce the ball off his knee from one to the other without letting it fall to the floor inbetween. His record was two times so far, but he was getting better alarmingly quickly, so much so that Ichigo sincerely hoped the snow would melt soon so that Renji could get out of the house with that thing before he broke something glass -  _like the flower vase, or the TV, or the pictures of them hung up in the hall._

More confident after last night, Ichigo thought he might try to up the ante, see how far he could push this thing. At first he’d just been focused on getting Renji excited; he hadn’t expected to enjoy this process himself as much. However, he’d been surprised to realize that it was thrilling to feel that wanted -  _not that Renji ever made him feel unwanted in the bedroom_ _._  Last night though, he’d felt  _very, very_ wanted. Instead of a flame burning within him, he’d felt sparks, felt staticky  _exhilaration._ Ichigo had felt sexy, adored by Renji, like the only man in the world.

He decided to probe a little more as they kicked the ball to each other, Renji with more enthusiasm.

Ichigo tried to kick it around him, but didn’t get as zealous as his boyfriend, who rolled the ball on top of his foot to toss it in the air and bounce it off his knee. “Whoa. Impressive,” Ichigo noted, but didn’t try to one-up him. If this turned into a trick-shot competition, something was definitely going to end up broken.  
  


“Thanks!”  
  


“So did you like that underwear that I got?” Ichigo asked directly, kicking it back over to Renji, hitting it off the molding on the floor of the hall so it would ricochet. Renji caught it under his foot, holding it still.

“Yeah, they look great, babe,” Renji answered, pausing to give him his full attention before kicking the ball back, throwing it to him under his leg.  _’Okay, show off,’_ Ichigo scoffed.  
  


“I mean, do you like when I wear them.”  
  


“Mm,” Renji hummed, looking up at him and giving a little grin. “. . . Yes.”  
  


“Oh…” Ichigo scratched at the back of his neck and tried not to smile, shifting around and feeling all squirmy and pleased again. He brushed a finger under his nose, looking away. “Well, if you do… maybe you can pick some more out for me, and I’ll wear them to bed.”  
  


Renji smiled knowingly, and Ichigo’s ears grew hot. “You’re letting me pick the wrapper, huh?  
  
  
Ichigo kicked the ball back to him, hard.  
  


“Okay, okay, I’m just joking,” Renji laughed, managing to draw smile out of him, and they kicked it back and forth between them a few times wordlessly, smiling like goofballs.

“Wait, you didn’t get those just to show off to me, did you?” Renji asked suddenly with a lopsided grin, as though charmed by the idea and touched by the effort he’d put in.

Ichigo shouldn’t, but he felt maybe a tiny bit shy. Instead of denying it as usual, he looked at his feet and muttered softly, “... I thought you might like them.”

“I did,” Renji told him firmly, still smiling. Ichigo looked up at him and then broke eye contact again, clearing his throat and scratching his nose aimlessly. “Man, you’ve never done anything like that before.”

The love and adoration in Renji’s gaze was making him squirm. “Thought I’d make a change,” he told Renji’s feet, not looking him in the eye.

“That’s not like you at all,” Renji noted softly, still stuck with that spoony grin. Ichigo didn’t know why he was blushing like this, didn’t know why Renji wasn’t teasing him, but his heart glowed in that moment, glowed and swelled, too full of love and those fluttery feelings he hadn’t felt since the early days - but he felt it now; just for a moment he felt just like he had then. He hadn’t known he could still feel like that.

He shrugged, scuffing his toe and then giving the ball a hearty kick down the hall, sending it flying in the air in his carelessness. Renji caught it in both hands just before it busted him in the face.  
  


“Well, I’m sure not complaining,” he finally teased, his grin taking that shape it got when he was being a jackass. “You looked  _fiiine~”_  
  


“Hmph,” Ichigo grunted, blowing his hair off his forehead and shooting him a glare.  
  


They screwed around for a little while longer and at last, bundled up and went out into the bitter cold to pick up their christmas dinner: catered KFC. When they got back, they snuggled to warm up, opening their food at the kotatsu and munching away. They watched kaiju films until real late under the twinkling lights, still left up from the party - and they kiss. They kiss and kiss all night, like they always do, spending Christmas together.  
  
  
It didn’t come up again for a couple days, but one night Renji was excited when Ichigo got home.  
  


“Hey!” he greeted with a grin, hopping up off the sofa and beckoning Ichigo to the kitchen counter, where a package was sitting. “The underwear I picked out for you came!”

“Oh yeah? Lemme’ see it,” Ichigo said, taking his shoes and coat off and following, seeing that the box had been previously opened. Looks like Renji hadn’t been able to be patient.

As he came up next to Renji and peeked inside the box, Ichigo mumbled. “It better not be a leopard print-...” He took it out of the box and held it up with two hands, spreading it out, blinking at it.

Renji was practically vibrating with anticipation, and Ichigo just stared at the underpants. “... You want me to wear this?” he wondered. This wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting.

  
  
  
  


 

 

It was pretty…. plain actually. They were just shorts. He’d somehow imagined Renji would pick something more revealing, something more exciting.

Ichigo tugged on them and they stretched, and then frowned a little. No, he’d not been expecting this at all, he’d thought it would be some kind of dental floss thing. Seeming to pick up on his lack of enthusiasm, Renji rubbed the back of his neck, smiled, and huffed, “Well, I figured you were trusting me not to go too crazy the first time.”  
  


“Oh.” Ichigo’s shoulders dropped.  
  


“Will you wear them?” Renji urged, eyes hopeful. “I’ll get to see your dick outline.”  
  


Ichigo snorted at Renji’s teasing tone. “Pff’. Who wants to see the outline of some guy’s dick.”  
  


“Not some guy! Your dick!”  
  


“Okay, okay,” Ichigo agreed, stretching his arms out and bringing the underwear with him, dangling from one fist, “Gimme’ a sec.”  
  


He took them with him in the bathroom. “Where’re you going?” Renji called after him when he walked away down the hall.  
  


He stopped and looked back at him for a second. “To put these on.”  
  


“Do it in the open!” Renji squawked.  
  


“No! I wanna’ see how they look on.” He opened the door and went in, Renji hot on his heels.

  
“Can I come?” Renji wondered with that morbidly curious tone of his, eyeing him all over.

  
“Patience.” Ichigo shut the door. Renji just groaned and Ichigo heard a thud, probably Renji’s forehead on the door. A moment later he heard pacing.  
  


_‘Better hurry it up then.’_  
  


He took off his scrubs and folded them up on the sink counter and then carefully pushed his briefs down his legs, stepping out of them so he could swap them out for the elastic boyshort underwear that Renji’d picked out.

As he’d thought, they completely covered him up, but what he hadn’t expected was the way they stretched against his body obscenely. “Whoa, you  _can_  see my dick outline,” he murmured, standing in front of the mirror.  
  


“You  _can?!”_  
  


Ichigo gave a deadpan glare to the sudden clamor just outside the door, and twisted at the waist to check the back. Yep, there’s his buttcrack too. “Are you peeping?” he accused flatly, adjusting his dick in front to make it lie in a more flattering position. This underwear had no support whatsoever other than squeezing on for dear life.

“I just put my ear to the door!” Renji brushed off. “Come out, lemme’ look,” he pleaded, voice going low with anticipation. “Come out and show yourself to me.”

The hair stood up on the back of Ichigo’s neck. He could hear how turned on Renji was - he was starting to get a little excited too, that static feeling raising goosebumps on his arms and his back.

Ichigo opened the door. Renji stood there in the doorway, their chests only an inch or so apart. “Gorgeous,” Renji whispered, eyes running over his body, his hand following it, warm and just barely fluttering along his side, from his chest all the way down his flank.

Ichigo put his forearm up on the door frame, just above his head, leaning against it slightly, pronouncing the lean lines of his side. He ran his hand through his hair, meeting Renji’s eyes and slowly biting his lower lip, not fully able to carry it off when he felt too silly, breaking into a smile. It still seemed to work regardless, as Renji smiled back and let out a long slow breath, body straining all over. “Fuck, look at you...”

He watched as Renji licked his lips slowly, and shivered, and there was that feeling again, that exhilarating addicting feeling of confidence. He did feel gorgeous, with the way Renji was looking at him, as though his body was made by angels, and with such emotion in his face too. He felt like the only one Renji saw, like he had something special that Renji couldn’t get anywhere else - like he was the only one who deserved his love.

While he’d been pacing outside, it seemed Renji had taken his hair down, stripped his top, and unbelted his pants in his eagerness, ready and waiting. “Can I pick you up?” he breathed, stepping into his personal space, their chests brushing together. “I wanna’ feel you against me in those.” Ichigo felt shaky in the knees, seeing Renji so affected, and probably would’ve let him do anything at this point, but he managed to nod.

He lifted his arms to let Renji hook his hands under his armpits and heft him up into his arms, holding him securely. He wrapped his legs around him reflexively, his hips grinding against his hard abdomen, felt the bulge of Renji’s cock press against his balls, through their underwear.

Brushing his nose against Ichigo’s, long strands of hair tickling their eyelashes, Renji growled playfully, “I wonder if this’ll chafe my dick if I do sumata on you like this.” Ichigo wrapped his arms around Renji’s broad shoulders more securely as Renji moved his hands from his back down to his ass, squeezing and pulling on his bottom, palms sliding over the fabric like a dream. “It’s so smooth,” he marveled.

Ichigo held on, kissing at Renji’s sideburn and cheek while Renji stood there and held him up, enjoying feeling and squeezing him, sticking his hands under the stretchy material and grabbing at his ass greedily.

Renji liked them, he  _really_ liked them. Ichigo was so turned on that the bulge in the front of his underwear had gotten a little wet, precum soaking through. “Carry me to bed,” he breathed into Renji’s ear, warm all over.

Ichigo relished being walked to their room and playfully tossed into bed - he laughed, letting it turn into a moan and a sigh as he was held by the hips and bitten and licked through the front of his shorts.

Renji dragged it out, teasing and playing with him and licking him -  _eating him out -_ through the fabric for so long that Ichigo felt exhausted by the time Renji finally put on a condom and penetrated him.

Afterwards, as they separated, gasping and smiling tiredly, at the sight of Renji’s blissful satisfied expression, Ichigo felt even more resolved to take this even further.

He couldn’t help but feel like he could do more, could really thrill Renji, could do something that Renji would go absolutely  _silly_ over if he just pushed things a little farther. That had already been pretty intense, but Ichigo knew something even more amazing was waiting if he’d be brave enough to try.

He has an idea of what to do, always has really, since this whole thing started - and there’s the knot again, tightening up alarmingly quickly despite how exhausted and relaxed his body was.

Even though the last two pairs of underwear had been clearly  _men’s_ and Renji had obviously liked both encounters, Ichigo couldn’t stop coming back to that one thought of Renji sticking his head under a skirt, couldn’t stop thinking of that window display.

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling the sweat cool on his forehead. Renji nudges a hand against his cheek, and opens his eyes again to find him smiling, eyes sleepy and warm. Ichigo managed a smile back, just a little one, and the two of them get up and stagger to the bathroom.

He kept thinking about it as Renji lovingly washed his back and soaped his hair for him, and when he got out and toweled off and bundled up in warm pajamas, lying in bed, Ichigo kept thinking about it even then.

He lie on his back alone, listening to Renji in the shower, needing longer to wash his hair. He closed his eyes then, putting a fist on top of his stomach as he finally let himself think about it, just a little.

Ichigo thought of Renji and a woman, maybe that gravure idol he liked, Ai Shinozaki, wearing a skirt and knee socks, braced against a countertop with Renji on his knees in front of him. . .  _her._

Ichigo screwed his eyes tightly closed, making himself see it, see Renji breathing so heavily that his bulging chest heaved under his shirt, unbuttoned in the front. He’d reach up and pull the underwear down from below the skirt and then pleasure him beneath it, head moving around under the pleating.

Even though he was trying his hardest, the image didn’t really work in his brain, and he has to repeatedly put in a conscious effort to stop superimposing himself in  _Love-chan’s_ place, because his head can’t make sense of it,  _him_ wearing a skirt, a schoolgirl uniform - but all the same, he kept imagining the two of them doing it like that, Renji’s head moving around down there while he sucked him off, panties pulled down just enough to feed Ichigo’s cock into his mouth.

It was so  _wrong_ and the thought was thrilling in a scary way, the knotting in his gut even more intense, even more weird and wrong than it had been when he’d seen that lingerie in the shopping arcade before Christmas, even more than when he’d seen that babydoll nightie on the internet that he’d almost bought on impulse.

He was glad he was too exhausted to get hard again, and, throat tight with shame, wondered if Renji had done that in real life, the skirt thing. No… he doesn’t. He  _knows_ he’s done it, pleasured someone like that and then fucked them right there, still wearing their clothes, just barely undressed enough to have sex, maybe right there in the open.

It sounded pretty exciting, honestly - in an unacceptably embarrassing and  _filthy_ way.

And the sad thing was, knowing Renji’s loyalty, he’d probably resigned himself to never being able to do that exciting skirt sex ever again.  
  


Unless.... Unless Ichigo could be that girl after all, could give him that satisfaction.  
  


The idea was humiliating, revolted against his pride, but… he didn’t hate the idea as much as he felt he should, and that was the most worrying thing, the thing that made his gut knot up.

Because some part of him, when he saw those cute underwears, some part of him… God, he still can’t make himself admit it. The very thought of saying it out loud, let alone telling Renji made him feel awful inside, sick and insecure.

He hadn’t known that this…  _thing_ was there inside him, maybe it always had been, and he didn’t know if he liked it, if he was comfortable with it.

When Renji got in bed, Ichigo turned towards the wall, unable to face him, but Renji just snuggled up behind him anyway. “Sweet dreams, Ichi,” Renji whispered against his ear, breath warm, embrace comforting, but Ichigo still stayed awake for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

Ichigo was in a bad mood for days, brooding and quiet. The knot was there constantly now, not as intense, but always there. He’d acknowledged this new part of himself, but he didn’t know if he accepted it.

The thing was, he didn’t know how to _deal_ with this kind of personal crisis. This has never happened to him before. He hadn’t gone through any real sort of struggle coming to terms with being attracted to Renji; falling for, dating, and eventually making love with a man. He's never felt ashamed of himself like this.

He knew about hiding parts of himself, that was true, when, in his younger teen days, he’d dealt with crippling depression and apathy for years - but that had only been to avoid burdening friends and family. There had been no element of self-disgust, of _shame,_ of fear that someone would find out and find him disgusting and shameful too.

But the knot’s there and it wasn’t going away. It’s the first time he’d felt this intensely awful for liking something.

Normally, he’d bury that kind of - he didn’t know what to call this other than  _impulse,_ hide it away and never tell anyone. He was good at lying to people about his feelings, and the thought of so much as saying it aloud or telling Renji made him feel vaguely panicked and sick. But he can’t stop, he can’t stop thinking about it.

And that’s the problem, because as much as he knows he should hide this and deny it till the day he died, part of him was convinced that this was just what he needed to really excite Renji - which was what he wanted to do more than ever - something out of the ordinary and risque.

Wearing something like a skirt or panties for Renji, it was just racey enough that it left the vanilla territory they’d been squarely placed in for the last four-plus years, landing them squarely in... in what. Chocolate?

 

_'Well that's my favorite food, so...'_

 

So there was no reason to be nervous, right? He knows he should just be brave and try to get over it, this sick feeling, but… he’s scared. He’s scared, and even the person he trusted most, Renji, he just couldn’t tell him about this, couldn’t let him know about these thoughts.

Maybe he’s afraid that if he does tell him, someone else will find out, which is silly, because Renji would never embarrass him like that and tell anyone about their private life, Ichigo knows that - or maybe he’s scared of the idea of opening himself up, telling Renji such a deep dark secret that even he hasn’t fully come to terms with, and Renji _making fun of him_ _._ The thought hurts him so badly that he doesn’t want to do it, doesn’t think he _can._

Renji isn’t cruel though, and rationally, Ichigo knows that he’s scaremongering, spooking himself needlessly. Renji wouldn’t hurt his feelings like that, wouldn’t crush his self-esteem that ruthlessly, not if he saw how vulnerable Ichigo was making himself in telling him something that private. Ichigo knows he can trust Renji.

He just isn’t over whatever this mental block is yet. He still felt unsure about going through with it. He didn’t _honestly_ think Renji would laugh at him or anything, it was just, he’s never in his life thought that he’d ever do something like this, never considered it, never crossed his mind. It was weird to discover something about himself so late in life, to realize and admit that he actually felt a little, dare he say, _turned on_ by the idea of putting on girl’s panties and wearing them for his boyfriend.

When he thought of how excited Renji might get, Ichigo felt excited himself, felt more of that spark that was _new_ in their sex life, and he hated that he was so scared - because he was. He didn’t think he could take the shame of it, if he were to try it, be that vulnerable and fragile, and then be ridiculed. He didn’t think he could bear it.

But the thought of Renji’s happy face afterwards when they laid together, exhausted, Ichigo knew that he _must_ do this. Because what they’d done so far had made Ichigo feel nervous during sex again, unsure and _excited_ _,_ the newness of it making him feel like a virgin again. And Renji - the passion in his eyes burned more intensely than ever, and the usual steady experience that he used to melt Ichigo into a puddle night after night _after night after night_ made way for a fervor driven by instinct - _wild, out of control._ Ichigo’s never seen him so infatuated by him, so fascinated with everything about him, about them together. He wanted to keep doing it, wanted to keep making Renji lose his composure, wanted to be able to put that look into the eye of a man who’d had sex a thousand times. He had to do this, to keep putting that tired happy satisfied look on Renji’s face, to put that passionate glint, that fond and loving gleam in his eye. He’d just have to put aside his embarrassment and try his best.

 _‘Just do it, Kurosaki. Do it for love!’_ He knew that it’s exactly what Renji would do in his situation.

 

He’d just have to swallow it. He was going to blow Renji away.

 

                 

                  A few days later in the evening, they were spending some quiet time in the living room to decompress after work. Renji was sitting at the kotatsu with a bunch of teeny tiny bits and bobs and glue and wires, making Rukia this pretty hairpin to wear on New Years.

Ichigo suspected that he was making it because Byakuya always one-upped Renji if he tried to buy her jewelry on her birthday, and last year when Renji had picked her out a sweet little bunny necklace, Byakuya’d gotten her _diamond_ bunnies or something ridiculous like that.

Ichigo knew firsthand that Rukia derived deep personal value from Renji’s presents, but it was hard to turn one’s nose up at diamonds from one’s precious older brother. Which was why Renji was outdoing himself, handmaking a hairpin for her, long and with lots of beautiful dangly bits. It looked pretty complicated, actually - Ichigo’s been watching him carefully work on it on and off for weeks.

He lazed around on the floor nearby, idly kicking his legs in the air. He didn’t want to distract Renji, but to be honest, it might be the only way he could have this final conversation, if Renji was partway distracted.  
 

“Renji,” Ichigo hummed absently, putting his arms in the air too, staring through his spread fingers. “What’s a vagina look like?”  
  
  
Renji looked up mildly, brow mildly scrunched as he teasingly brushed off, “Ichigo, you’re a med student.”  


He made a non-committal noise, eyes wandering the ceiling. “There’s a difference between pictures and the real thing!”  


“Are you talking about the vulva, because the vagina's just the hole and the space inside. Common mistake.”  
  
  
“Yeah. Whatever. How's it look.”  


Renji hummed in consideration, tinkering around with his hairpin in silence, carefully laying out the long slender chains dangling from the end so they would tangle as he turned the pin over.  
  
  
“Hmm… a flower,” he said at last, as he fastened these tiny metal blossoms to the end of the pin in a cluster. “Kind of.”  
  
  
“How… uhh… how, how does it feel?” Ichigo asked, swallowing and glancing to Renji, who was focusing on his work mostly.  


“Nice,” he told him absently.  


“. . . I was looking for a little more than that.” Renji did look up then, seeming standoffish then.  


“Why are you asking me this?” He had that uncomfortable look on his face again, grimacing and glancing to his sides.  


“Oh, don’t act all modest now, Mister I-probably-have-kids-I-just-don’t-know-about-yet!” Ichigo scolded. Renji didn’t take the joke well, hunching his shoulders.  


“I feel uncomfortable talking to you about my old sex life!”  


Ichigo rolled onto his front and rested his head on his folded arms. “If you're worried you’re going to hurt my feelings or make me jealous, don’t! I brought it up on my own!”

“I feel uncomfortable all the same,” Renji said hotly, looking away. “I’m not going to look you in the face and talk about others!” Fiddling around and scowling darkly, he muttered at last, “You’re the one I love.”

“I’m the one who brought it up!” Ichigo complained. Usually Renji didn’t mind at all to talk about sex. “I was just asking! You don’t have to tell me details, just-...”

Renji gave a long sigh, rubbing his brow, but agreed, “Fine.” Ichigo listened attentively, propping his chin up on his hands. “It’s not like… the butt, you know, with the rings…” Renji made a vague gesture with his hand, looking away in hesitance. Ichigo nodded to prompt him on.  
  
  
“It’s more like… I dunno’, the sides are ribbed, but… soft, and it’s really wet, so you slide so easy. And you can really tell when it’s feeling good, because it grips, and… sucks you in.”  
  
  
Ichigo listened in silence. Maybe Renji was just explaining it badly, but it didn’t sound so different from Ichigo’s experience being on top. “Probably have to do it to know for sure,” he hummed when it was clear Renji wasn’t going to say anymore about it.

He watched in confusion as his boyfriend sat there trying to work on his pin and _fiddled_ and _squirmed,_ frowning sadly. What was wrong with him?

At last, Renji muttered suspiciously, “You’re not planning something, are you?” Ichigo blinked for a moment.

“Not like that!” he sputtered when he caught on. Renji looked away with a sigh, sadness creasing his face. He pulled on his hair, letting go of the pin with his other hand to place his fist in his lap.

“. . . You’ve been asking me about that kind of stuff a lot lately. Are you. . . “ He gave a long sigh, rubbing his brow. “You’re not thinking of breaking up with me, are you?”  
  
  
  
“... What?” Ichigo whispered incredulously.  
  
  
  
“Well you keep asking those sorts of questions.” Renji finally looked at him, and his eyes were so raw and unguarded, maybe even a little _scared,_ that Ichigo felt he’d made a mistake, prying and prodding like he had.

“You’re not… having regrets that you never got more experience before we…” Renji lifted his hand and let it fall with a slap, mouth working uselessly when he ran out of words. Ichigo scooted closer, reaching a hand out along the floor to touch Renji’s leg, to poke and rub with his fingertip.

“Have you been worrying about this?” Ichigo murmured, aghast that he might’ve kept Renji up at night over that kind of thing. He’d had no idea. Renji hadn’t let on at all that he’d been worried!

“Well maybe a little…” Renji rubbed the back of his neck and let his hand reach down and cover Ichigo’s, holding it in his warm grasp. “But… what _should_ I have thought?”

“I swear, that’s not what I meant by it at all,” Ichigo promised softly, but gave no further explanation. “Don’t be an idiot, like I’d get tired a’ you,” he whispered, but only because the knot had reared its head, solidifying at the base of his throat.

Renji let out a laugh through his nose, smiling and stroking Ichigo’s hand with his thumb. The worry in his eyes didn’t shine quite as brightly, dulling to make way for the warmth of fondness. “Thanks,” he said, voice just a little wrenched, and Ichigo could see that he _had_ worried him. “Thank you.”  
  
Ichigo squeezed his hand, feeling the knot grow even tighter when he heard Renji’s voice waver, almost crack. _‘If you fucking cry, I swear to god...’  
_

Renji let out a wobbly laugh, rubbing a finger under one itchy eye, then the other. He laughed again. “I didn’t think I’d get like this. Guess you really scared me.” He looked Ichigo in the face and smiled, eyes crinkling.  
  
  
“Damn, I’m relieved. I’m so fucking relieved.”  
  
  
“Stop crying,” Ichigo grit out, voice like gravel in a lawnmower. “You know when you cry, I fucking cry, so stop  _now_ _.”_ Renji sniffed and laughed a little more.

  
“I’m not.”  
  
  
“Yeah sure.”  
  
  
“Nothing came out so I’m not!”

  
They sat together in silence for some time, gripping each other’s hands tight in comfort. “I still don’t get why you asked me this,” Renji muttered at last, sniffing and clearing his throat, getting back to picking around with his hairpin baubles one-handed.

Ichigo looked up into his eyes with a solemn expression. “Do you miss it?” he said quietly.

Renji gave him a strange look, as though confused and trying to work out a puzzle written on Ichigo’s face. “... Wait…” Comprehension began to move through his expression. “Is this some jealousy thing?”  
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
“If it’s not that either, then I really don’t get it,” Renji said, bewildered.  
  
  
“I’m just wondering, since I’ll probably never know.”  
  
  
Renji pressed his lips together, lifting his gaze. “I… I guess I do miss it, sometimes,” he managed, baffled - and a second after, he looked mortified with himself for saying it, staring back down into Ichigo’s eyes.  
  
  
_‘Why are you doing this to me?’_ they seemed to plead. _‘Why’re you making me say things that’ll hurt you?’  
  
  
_ “But I wouldn’t change it, I wouldn’t change you,” Renji rasped, sounding desperate. “I would never let go a’ you, Ichi. I promise.”  
  
  
“I know. Sorry.”  
  
  
  
“I should be saying that to you,” Renji breathed, but Ichigo knew that he was the one who’d hurt him.  
  
  
  
_'I’m the one tearing you up inside. Just because I feel insecure. Just because I can’t make sense of this knot.’_

  
They didn’t talk much for the rest of the night, and despite neither being angry with the other, Ichigo couldn’t help but feel that he may have damaged their relationship, may have mucked things up rather badly. He didn’t know how to take this dark paranoid insecure _thing_ out from between them. He wanted it gone.

Renji held him that night and carefully pet his hair, snuggling him close. He kissed him on the back of his neck, stroking his chest and stomach and nestling his head close behind his.

“Sorry about before,” he whispered into the darkness, holding Ichigo against him. “... You were just asking and I got all upset. I’m not mad, I’m just a worrywart and a jackass.”  
  
  
“You’re not,” Ichigo denied. “And it’s okay.”  
  
  
“It’s just…” Stroking gently along his chest, Renji whispered vulnerably, “When I look at you and think about the man I was and the things I did…” Softly, he admitted, “I feel ashamed.”

“Oh.” Ichigo felt like he was punched in the gut by guilt. “. . . I … didn’t mean to make you feel like that. That wasn’t what I meant to happen,” he tried.  
  
  
_'_ _You’ve always been really open about sex, so I didn’t think it would bother you like that! I didn’t mean to hurt you that badly. Don’t feel bad about yourself, the problem isn’t you, the problem is me. . . The problem is me.’_  
  
  
“If I could just understand why…” Renji murmured, relaxing against him, not holding him quite so desperately close.

“I don’t know,” Ichigo said quietly, because how could he explain it someone else when he himself didn't understand it either. “Maybe I was curious. You know you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Rubbing a firm hand through Ichigo’s hair a couple times, in a less downcast voice, Renji noted, “You’ve never been interested in knowing about that kind of thing before.”  
  
  
“I know.”  
  
  
“So my little boy’s finally grown up and showing an interest in girls, huh?” Renji teased lowly, pinching at his ticklish sides. Ichigo pushed at his hands, but not hard, just relieved that the dark mood had finally lifted. Things weren’t damaged irreparably after all.

“Pff’. I’m glad you can still joke.” Renji laughed in his ear, snaking his thick arms around Ichigo so he could press his body on him all down his back, his hips, his legs.

“Good boys sleep with their hands above the covers,” he told him, breathed it into the shell of his ear, warm breath stirring his hair. Ichigo shuddered, lying still and eyes fluttering shut.

He brought his hands up above the blanket, growing hot all over as Renji’s hands wandered steadily down. “What about you?” he wondered. “Are you bad?”

“Very bad,” Renji whispered, drawing himself up on one elbow so he could kiss Ichigo’s cheek. He shot him a large winning smile and then ducked under the covers.

Ichigo lay on his back and stared at the ceiling for a second, watching the rustling going on down below, felt the hot hands sliding down his body, the hot breath on his dick - and he let out a laugh.

  
“Huh.”  
  
 

      He’d made his mind up. He was giving this whole thing another try, pride be damned.


	8. Chapter 8

     Ichigo was gonna’ try this shit again one more time.  
  


He knew he had to go all the way if he was really going to get someone like Renji hot under the collar. There was probably next to nothing that Renji hadn’t done before, but Ichigo was going to do his damn best to excite him anyway. He was going to try again. He’s going all in.

He was fully committed to the whole dressing up thing, to wearing    _((   . . . ._ _panties . . ._ _))_ but he just didn’t think he could carry off the skirt. At least not yet. He was pretty sure he’d gotten over himself enough to be able to make himself do the underwear, but he wasn’t feeling confident enough about the skirt.

Despite the cold sweats and fits of nerves he breaks out in when he thinks about his plan, he does spend a night or two on his laptop, browsing for the perfect underwear to start out with.

When he wasn’t too busy feeling overwhelmed by nervousness, his brain was firing and lit up with a barrage of that fluttery sensation of _new, new, new._ He didn’t know what kind of element this would bring to their sex life, to their relationship as a whole, but the novelty of it was admittedly quite thrilling.

He saw some things he liked online, some very cute underwears that in high school, even so much as looking at them would have made him probably die from blushing too hard. Now when he looked at them, he felt a vague sense of shame, shame because he knew that he liked them no matter how he denied it, shame because he felt excited looking at them. 

At last he found some that were just what he was looking for, and ordered the panties. He made sure that they were stretchy cotton and that he got them in the large size, just in case they won’t fit over his… _well, you know!_

He wiped his sweaty palms off on his legs and let out a long slow breath. No going back now. He wanted to give Renji the best night of his life, and he damn well would.  
  
  
_‘_ _I’m giving this one more shot whether you like it or not, you stupid brain. I’ll definitely blow him away, and that’s that!’_  
  
  
Ichigo used his JP Prime shipping, and was expecting the package the next day. He was nervous for it to arrive all night and then all day at work. He didn’t want Renji, who got home from work before him, to see the box and open it by mistake.

When he got home, his hands started to shake when he saw it wasn’t outside their front door, but to his relief, he found it sitting on the counter next to the fruit bowl when he got inside. Renji must’ve brought it in for him when he’d gotten back.

Ichigo snatched it up immediately and took it in the bathroom with him. “Babe?” he heard, and cursed, standing there just behind the bathroom door, holding the package in clammy hands.  
  
  
“Yeah, I’m home!” he called through the door.  
  
  
“Welcome back!” Renji hollered from wherever he was in the house. Ichigo smiled a little, and luckily, didn’t hear anything else. He must be working out or something. All the same, Ichigo locked the door and listened for a few seconds to be sure he was left quite alone.

He set the package on the sink counter, peeled back the tape, and opened the cardboard flaps. With a hard swallow, he moved back the bubble wrap sheet and took out the little box. He slid out a piece of fabric and held it up with two hands, looking at it.  
  
  
Yep. One underwear, just like he’d ordered.  
  
  
It was very soft, and felt very light, probably because it didn’t have a thick heavy waistband weighing it down like all his other - _men's-_ underwears did.

Geez, he felt embarrassed just looking at it, even though he was alone, but the knot in his gut eased a little into something fluttery and innocent, excited. He’s holding an underwear, _panties_ , that he’s got to show off to his boyfriend. Oddly, he liked them, and it wasn’t as hard to admit to himself anymore, holding them in his hands, even though he knew they’re not just here for him to look at. He’s going to have to actually _wear_ them.

They were pretty tame for a first time wearing a woman’s underwear - by that he meant they weren’t skimpy or very interesting at all, just a regular panty shape that would completely cover him up. It’s so cute to look at though. It reminded him of a cupcake, cream and pink with some rosey thread designs running down at each hip. There was even a small bow in front.

Ichigo knew what came next, and even though he was alone in an enclosed space, he looked around. He checked the lock again, and then took an anticipatory breath.

He undressed in front of the mirror so he could try it on, stripping until he was naked. He held the panties up one more time and glared at the cute underwear. _‘I’m not intimidated!’_ he thought with determination, setting his jaw. _‘What, am I scared I’ll like it? As if!’_

He leaned down and put his feet in the holes and pulled it up his legs, then frowned when he got to around mid-thigh. . . . He’d gotten a large, right?

It was still so small on his hips, hard to pull up all the way. When he got it up, it was kind of tight in the front too, and he reached in several times to tuck himself in more comfortably until his dick was resting just right. He bit his lip every time he put his hand in. They’re so soft...

He looked at himself in the mirror, a hand at his forehead, half covering his eyes as he gave a long sigh. Ugh, just look at him. How did he get to this point in his life. Morbidly fascinated, he turned and looked at them from the back. 

Actually… they looked pretty good on his butt. Even the strange combo of the bulge at his crotch, pushing out the cute front of the panties a little, it was weirdly fascinating, and he didn’t dislike it.

He’d gotten overwhelmed for a second by the feeling of looking ridiculous, _being ridiculous_ _,_ that at first he’d thought they looked completely out of place and wrong on his flat hips and lean stomach… but on second thought…  
  
  
They’re really not so bad.  
  
  
The more he looked at himself, the more he got used to it actually. These would work just fine.

  
“Shit,” he murmured to himself, putting both hands over his face for a second and letting out a long breath. He liked them, didn’t he. He did. He’s such a pervert. He’s a dirty pervert, finding girl’s underwear adorable, he’s a pervert to enjoy wearing these.  
  
  
_'Pull yourself together, okay? Just fucking stop it.’_

  
He really hoped Renji would like this sort of thing. He knew that on a cute girl, he’d like it one hundred percent, but on him, Ichigo wasn’t as confident. He’s maybe _ninety_ percent sure.

He didn’t know if his psyche could recover the blow of finally accepting that he liked  wearing _panties_ if Renji was going to find him ridiculous, if he _laughed._  
  


      . . . . Whatever, he’ll be into it.

 

. . .

On New Years eve, he and Renji leave the house around five p.m. so they’d have time to scope out the festival before they had to go to their friends’ New Years party together.

They dressed up in yukata and met Rukia, who looked really pretty with her hair all done up, and wearing a cute kimono. She was like a princess. Renji smiled uncontrollably for ages when she accepted the hairpin he’d made her and immediately replaced the ornamental one she’d already had in with Renji’s.

The three of them had a blast together, huddled together in a tight group to keep warm. There’s nowhere he felt more content than he did with Rukia on one side and Renji on the other, like the clear skies and sunshine to his rainy day of a heart. They drank, they had fun eating snacks, and they played games while they wandered the festival together until late, breath puffing in the frigid air.  
  
  
What no one knew was that under his relatively unremarkable outfit, he was wearing panties.  
  
  
He knew that nobody could tell, couldn’t _possibly_ tell, but he still felt weird, being out in public like this. He was wearing panties in front of everybody, and no one had an idea.

Luckily, his friends didn’t seem to realize if he was acting weird or dropping hints that he felt nervous about what was to come later. They said goodbye to Rukia around ten p.m., escorted her to the station where Byakuya was waiting to take her to some fancy dinner party or other. Hugging her on both sides and each pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, they wished her a happy new year, and then a more serious one to her brother - at least from Renji.

They hit their place really quick to change and put their yukata away, and then headed out for the night.

 

       Ikkaku and Yumichika were hosting this year, and it was _wild._ There was so much fucking alcohol that Ichigo was surprised the guests hadn’t drowned already by the time they got there. They’d brought a bottle of ginjo sake with a bow on it as a gift, but it seemed pointless when they arrived and saw how well stocked they were already.

The front room was packed with loud sweaty dudes shooting pool and playing cards and eating junk food, and _drinking._ The TV was on and the balcony was open to let out the haze of smoke and presumably so that everyone could see the fireworks when they went off.

It was impossible not to have a good time around such a rowdy bunch, because despite the tough ugly appearance of Ikkaku’s friends, they were warm and welcoming under the mean exteriors. It was routine for most of them to push him around and tease him - and Renji too, their little brother - but Ichigo took it in stride. He liked people who he could get loud and rude with. He even made a buddy and drank with him for awhile, leaving Renji to have his fun.

When it got later in the night, Ichigo went to the bathroom real quick - it was already in quite the state, Yumichika was gonna’ be pissed. It was a jolt again when he unbelted his pants. He’d almost forgotten they were there, but there they were, the cute hip-huggers, the bow, the sweet baby lace. He got a little thrill out of it, thought of the night he and Renji were going to have, ringing in the new year.  
  
  
_‘Just keep it together. Not long now.’_  
  
  
He bit his lip and took a breath, pushed the edge down, and went over the fence.  
  


He thought he was holding it together rather well, not letting the nerves overpower him and influence his behavior. He was just glad Ikkaku and Yumichika didn’t particularly get along with Hisagi, which meant that he wasn’t here at the party. If Ichigo saw him tonight, there’d be no way he’d be able to look him in the eye.

When he came out he went into the kitchen to get another of those fucking delicious wine coolers, and heard Renji call him from the sofa, from among the rowdier guys. He and Ikkaku had, in typical alpha male fashion, staked out the sofa for themselves and weren’t sharing it even though there was plenty of room for others. There was room for Yumichika of course, on Ikkaku’s leg with his own hand of cards and a glass of wine.  
  
“Ichigo! My New Years’ kiss!” Renji called, waving a hand at him, still holding a beer bottle. “C’mere, it’s almost time!”  
  
“Okay, okay, one sec’!” he shouted from the kitchen, a little irritated from nerves. Finally he found one more bottle half-buried in one of the many ice-boxes open on the counter.

“There’s not much time left, I need good luck!” Renji insisted loudly as Ichigo at last appeared, cracking his pink wine cooler open with a bottle opener.

“That’s just superstition,” Ichigo blew off, approaching the couch, ducking under two guys dueling with the billiard sticks.

“Hey! I take that shit very seriously,” snapped Ikkaku, who had not let Yumichika go to the bathroom in the last half an hour in case he missed the countdown. Ichigo met it with a deadpan expression, glancing to Yumichika just in time to see him rolling his eyes.  
  
When Ichigo at last came around the side of the couch, Renji moved his widely splayed legs to let Ichigo sit beside him. Ichigo glanced at his hand of cards, getting comfortable next to him and sipping his drink.

  
“Hey, you get me one?” Renji hummed, leaning his shoulder against his. “M’ outta’ beer.”

  
“No, But I’ll let you share,” he offered, holding it out absently while he watched their card game. “Don’t backwash.”

  
“Mm.” Renji took a swig and handed it back, rearranging his cards. “Hey, deal him in,” he told one of Ikkaku’s buds, but Ichigo shook his head.

  
“No thanks.”

  
“You sure?”

  
“Mhm.”

  
Ichigo watched them play a few hands, and when Ikkaku was in the middle of detailing a fight he’d gotten into with this gang that had these scary-ass dogs, Renji nudged him with his shoulder. “You’re acting kinda’ weird tonight.”

Ichigo inwardly squirmed. Shit, he should’ve known Renji would catch on. “Am I?”

“Yeah. Usually you find at least one or two people to talk to, but you seem like you’re miles away.” Renji picked two cards out - apparently good ones - and laid it down, to Ikkaku’s dismay.

  
“I did earlier,” Ichigo deflected.

  
“I’m asking if you’re feeling okay,” Renji mumbled, just for him to hear beneath the racket. “You wanna’ go home?”

  
“No,” he refused. “I’m good.”

  
“I know you don’t like parties that much.”

  
“I just don’t know most of the people here.”

  
“I know.” Renji gave him a smile. “But I appreciate you coming with me anyway.”

 _  
‘You fucking sap, you,’_ Ichigo thought. “Hm,” he laughed. Leaning back on the sofa, he put his foot up on the corner of the table. When a guy got ticked and made to shove it off, he and Renji shot him identical snarls, and unsurprisingly, he was left alone.

  
“So, you win anything?”

  
“I lost sixty yen,” Renji huffed, grimacing. “Ikkaku cheats.”

  
“Shut up that whining, I do not, it’s my good luck!” Ikkaku crowed.

  
Ichigo scoffed. “Are you guys seriously betting with change on extreme go-fish?”

  
“Would you rather a brawl started in the living room from losing _actual money_ to each other?” Ichigo shrugged. Yeah, a bunch of Ikkaku’s friends were ex-cons, or just plain cons, but-

“Are you looking me in the face and telling me you and Ikkaku wouldn’t throw down right now over like, eighteen cents?” Yumichika gave an undignified snort, looking away and hiding his laughter in his wine glass.

  
Ikkaku wasn’t paying attention, staring at his cards with a deep serious frown. “Ace of spades.”

  
“Go fish.”

  
“God damnit!”

  
Ichigo laughed a little bit at that, at Renji’s triumphant grin, and was distracted when he felt a sudden nudge to his elbow. It was the guy he’d been talking to earlier in the night.

  
“Oh hey, whatsup,” he greeted. Renji shot them a glance.

  
“Hey. Xbox is free. Wanna’ play a round?”

  
“Not really,” Ichigo said honestly, sipping his drink. “I’m good here.”

  
“Can I at least talk to you for a sec’?” Guy was kind of fidgety, wasn’t he? Weird, he hadn’t been like that earlier.

  
“Sure, what.”

  
“I mean in the other room.” Renji was openly staring now, and he wasn’t smiling.

  
“I dunno’, man,” Ichigo said lazily, “I’m settled in, just tell me now.”

  
“It’ll be just a minute, c’mon.”

  
Ichigo took a breath and frowned at his insistence, not really knowing what to say. “If you have something to say, say it, and then fuck off,” Renji growled suddenly, which made Ichigo let out a long flat sigh.

“You’ve gotta’ be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hey, who asked you?” the guy snapped back at Renji, fists tight, which really seemed to tick Renji off, because he made to stand up. Ichigo didn’t let him, throwing an arm across his chest.

  
“Who asked _you_ to come over here and get up in his business?! He’s obviously busy!”

  
“He’s just sitting there!”

  
“He said no! Who are you, anyways?!” Renji barked. “Go annoy someone else! Just fuck off already!” The guy does - probably only because Ikkaku gave him a particularly ugly look then, finally paying their outburst some attention. He gave them one last look of barely contained fury and then stormed off.

“Bastard,” Renji muttered.  
  


“What the fuck is your problem right now?!” Ichigo shouted, “He didn’t do anything to you.”

  
“I don’t like that guy.”

  
“Who asked you if you liked him or not?!” Ichigo huffed, frustrated. “He was talking to me, not you!”

  
“He’s a bastard, Ichigo.”

  
“You don’t know that, he was cool!”

  
“He was not.”

  
“He was.”

  
“Not.”

  
“You’ve never met him before!”

  
“He was trying to bone you.”

  
“Hey, pipe down!” Ikkaku boomed, irritated by their bickering.

  
“You don’t know that! And if he did, so what?! What does that have to do with anything?!” Renji scowled, but didn’t say anything more. Ichigo gave a long groan. “Ugh, you’re impossible. I could’ve handled that myself without you showing your ass like that.”

“Whatever, he was bad news. I could tell.”

“Like fuck, you could. You couldn’t tell dick,” Ichigo scolded.  
  
As many times as Renji accepts the friends Ichigo made at social outings, this has happened before on occasion too. Renji read people incredibly well and incredibly quickly in Ichigo's experience. Upon first meeting a person he will either let them into all the warmth and friendliness his soul has to offer, or he keeps them at a distance, and is distrustful, rude even at times.

On top of it, those first impressions stuck. There was no changing his mind about it either. Renji loves hard, but when he dislikes you, he does that _harder._ While usually it’s a blessing, it could be extremely annoying when Ichigo didn’t agree with him about whether someone was an asshole or not. Renji not getting along with his buddy Grimmjow was a prime example of this kind of situation.    
  


“If you think that kind of shit is cute, you’re sorely mistaken. You just look like a total jackass.”  
  
  
“No, you’re right, it’s not. So maybe I blew up,” Renji admitted. “You mad at me?” he wondered.

  
“I might stop if you apologize to him.”

  
“But he-!” Renji was silenced by a glare, which he returned in kind. “You’ll stop being mad if I say I’m sorry?”

  
“Only if you mean it,” Ichigo said, which drew an exasperated laugh out when Renji realized he was teasing.

  
It wasn’t long after that Ikkaku cut through the clamor with a shout of his own. “Shut up, everybody shut up,” he hollered, “The countdown!” Ichigo noticed then that the TV countdown had started.

He and Renji didn’t cling in public, but Renji at last put an arm around him in a moment of sentimentality, smiling and watching the skyline with him, counting aloud. When it came down to the zero, he leaned forward to meet him in a kiss. “Ake-ome, koto-yoro,” they mumbled to each other, kissing again, wishing each other a happy new year.

“DRINK!” Ikkaku shouted after he quit sucking face with Yumichika - _how can a man kiss for that long without coming up for air?_ \- and everyone fucking drinks.

He and Renji clacked their glasses together with everyone else’s in the center of the table and took a long swallow. “Toast with me, too,” Renji hummed in his ear, leaving his arm around his shoulder.

Everyone carried on with the game and drinking and getting loud around them, some even to the point of wrestling - _if shit got broken at Ikkaku and Yumichika's house, it’s not gonna’ be good for anyone -_ but Renji was only paying attention to him. “Okay,” Ichigo smiled, “What’s your resolution this year?”

“Hmm,” Renji considered, rubbing his smiling lips on the rim of his beer. “Making you happy every day. Another happy year together.” Their eyes met, soft and warm browns melting together. “And I’m gonna’ go to the gym more,” he muttered, drawing a laugh out of Ichigo.

“I’m going to try and break my routine. Try something new,” Ichigo said, feeling the nerves rise up in his stomach and chest again, looking Renji full in the face and thinking about it, what he was going to do in just a few hours.

  
“What, like a hobby?”

  
“Maybe. I just want to… y’know, do something exciting.”

  
Renji grinned. “Sounds pretty wild.” Ichigo smiled back a little. They hit their glasses off each other and then drank, keeping eye contact. Ichigo swallowed hard. He could see what Renji was thinking - it was there in his eyes, the way they caressed his face.

  
“You ready to go home?” Renji hummed, voice low and smooth.

  
“Yeah,” Ichigo agreed, the words coming out breathier than he’d meant them to.

  
Renji smirked, seeing the color rising in his face, but Ichigo just gulped.

_  
‘Here goes…’_


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they got home from the New Years party, they were both a little drunk, which was probably good on Ichigo’s part, because he’s sure he would have chickened out otherwise.

He tried his best, he tried very hard to stay determined. He knew that just wearing whatever wasn’t gonna’ do anything on its own. What mattered most was his attitude. Renji always seemed most into it when Ichigo showed a little passion.

So when they got out of the taxi and started walking up to their apartment and Renji felt on his ass and whispered, _‘I want you,’_ Ichigo seized him in a kiss right there in the hallway and said, “Fucking do something about it then.”

Renji grinned and laughed and grabbed him on both thighs, forcibly hefting him up into his arms and lumbered up the stairs with him, ran down the the hall, staggering all over the place. They giggled stupidly, finding everything funnier than it was, as drunks do - Renji held him in a fireman’s carry while he unlocked their door one-handed.

He carried him straight to their bedroom and threw the both of them in bed one at a time so that they didn’t break the damn thing, Ichigo tossed in first, Renji leaping atop him. As he always did in the fervor and the _fun_ of being with Renji intimately, Ichigo forgot his nerves completely for a moment, too consumed by happiness and the heat of passion. They flung each other around a bit and kissed hungrily, taking off each other’s shirts, their heads locking against each other as they both bit and sucked at the other's neck and shoulder, rolling around.

They calmed for a moment when Renji ended up on his back, head propped up, Ichigo straddled atop him in his arms, and wouldn’t luck have it, as they parted from their kiss and smiled at each other, Renji slipped both hands down inside the back of Ichigo’s pants, feeling his bottom.

  
Something must not have felt right, because Renji stopped abruptly.

  
Ichigo’s gut gave a sharp tug of dread as he watched Renji’s expression change from enjoyment to one of confusion, a frown. He stayed there stock still, held up by his arms, staring down into Renji’s face, and didn’t even move when Renji tilted his head, puzzled, and then promptly pulled his hands out and unzipped his pants in the front, only to stop and stare.

  
“. . . Panties,” Renji whispered, his hands freezing.

  
Ichigo froze too. He didn’t like them. He found them ridiculous. Of the reactions he’d expected, he hadn’t expected this one. Renji looked . . . _shocked_.

Finally breaking his unwavering gaze from Ichigo’s groin to look up into his eyes, with the same shocked expression, Renji murmured, “You wore panties for me?”

“...” Ichigo took a breath, managing to squeak out, “Yeah. . . Are you not into it?” Renji blinked rapidly a few times, seeming to shake himself. He didn’t seem to know what to say, completely tongue-tied, taken for a loop.

“I’m just… wow,” he said, dumbfounded, and as Ichigo was about to hang his head in shame, he felt something, a growing heat, a swell beneath him, urgently pressing into his backside. Ichigo stared back at him, just as lost for words.

“When did you…” Renji licked his lips and Ichigo watched him swallow, feeling Renji's erection twitch and nudge against him, wedging itself into the seam of his ass. “How long have you had these on?” he wondered, voice so dry it was a wonder it didn’t crack more than it did.

Ichigo gave a numb smile, hearing himself laugh. He felt so relieved then that he almost couldn’t function. He’d been so fucking spooked there for a second, god, he could’ve died on the spot.

Shakily, he managed to lean forward, face brushing the side of Renji’s, and whispered hesitantly into his ear, “All day.”

Renji's cock practically  _jerked_ beneath him, squashed under his bottom. Renji let out a ragged breath, chest heaving, and Ichigo sat up to look at him. “Whoooo,” Renji exhaled, holding him, his hands moving at last and squeezing at his hips, his waist. Ichigo realized then that it had worked, it had worked really well.

Ichigo almost didn’t know what to do. He felt so exhilarated by the success that he couldn’t do anything but sit there and smile and cover his mouth and try not to overheat from flushing too much. It had really worked - Renji looked surprised, and _excited,_ and absolutely _wrecked._

  
“Wow,” Renji gasped weakly, splayed beneath him, limp everywhere except for one part. “Damn.”

  
His hands ran over his front with fascination, touching the small peek that his unzipped pants allowed him to see. He touched the little bow, the soft cotton, thumbed just over the thin waistband. “Does this have anything to do with your resolution?” Renji guessed, voice back at last, but retaining a certain dreamy breathless quality.

  
“Maybe.” Ichigo ducked his head a little, scratching his hair. “You dig it?”

  
“I really dig it.” Renji grinned widely then, and there it is, the enthusiasm and eagerness on his face that made Ichigo’s heart soar. “Here, get up, lemme’ see you,” he breathed, and Ichigo got off him, kneeling next to him on the bed, and not a moment too soon, for the minute he got up, Renji rolled after him, eyes following his every move.

He looked excited, this happy spark in his eyes that Ichigo’s seen before, but never so intense, so pure. Ichigo bit his lips, pleased to no end.

Knowing he had Renji right where he wanted him should’ve given him a burst of confidence, but he’s never known what to do with an excess of attention, and felt maybe a tiny bit shy to show himself to Renji like this, even after being with him for so long.

He took his pants off and let Renji look at him, let him touch him, let him admire him and marvel at his outfit. Ichigo’s never felt this attractive in his life, and how can he not with the way Renji is so in love with the sight of him.

“Man, I know I’m talking too much, but I just can’t believe it,” Renji said, still grinning away, petting him all over, stroking his palm gently over the fabric in fascination. “When did you plan this?”

“I dunno’, just thought I’d do something nice.” Ichigo was getting excited himself from all the attention. “Something you might like.” Renji’s hands on him slowed a bit, his smile fading as he looked at Ichigo for a couple seconds.

  
“You’re… putting in a lot of effort for my sake then, aren’t you.”

  
“. . .” At first he didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but the longer he met Renji’s gaze, he realized that Renji may have guessed the beginning of it all, the insecurity. It was all those damn questions Ichigo’d asked about girls in his quest to please him better that must’ve tipped him off. "..." He looked away from Renji’s knowing gaze.

  
“Ichigo.”

  
“What?” he muttered begrudgingly.

  
_“Why?”_  


He figured Renji wouldn’t let this one drop, considering that whole business about having been worried that Ichigo was having regrets - he wasn’t going to let it drop if he thought he’d finally landed on the real reason for Ichigo’s weird behavior these past weeks.

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” he admitted after a few beats of silence. He looked at his lap, fidgeting. “. . . . I know it’s probably boring, the way we always do it.” Renji just stared at him, lips parted, before drawing back with a frown.

  
“What are you saying, are _you_ bored?”

  
“I’m just saying you’re probably not used to it. It’s probably hard, doing it like this,” he said, muttering out those fears that had been rooted in his mind for weeks.

  
“ . . . Like what?” Renji asked, voice colored with suspicion.

  
“The same all the time,” Ichigo breathed, looking away.

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he accused.

  
“In the end, it’s just me,” he came out with at last, in a small voice.

  
The anger and worry seeped out of Renji in a gush at that, his shoulders dropping and his face crumpling into one of guilt. “You’re trying to be other men for me?” he breathed, this high-pitched pained thing that begged him no, let it not be true. “No… You... _You’re trying to be like a girl._ To satisfy me,” he worked out, aghast.

  
“No.”

  
Chest beginning to heave, Renji started getting seriously upset; Ichigo could hear the distress in his voice even if he couldn't quite make himself look him in the face. “Is this some sort of plan to keep me from straying?”

This was not how this night was supposed to end. This was not how the first night of the year should be spent. “No, I-”

“What did I do? God, what did I do?” Renji blurted out, eyes panicked. “I made you feel like that,” he breathed, as if thinking aloud.

  
“No! No!” Ichigo tried, “You didn’t!” He shook his head, beginning, “Stray- Are you _insane?_ ”

  
“Ichigo, have I made you feel boring? That I’m unsatisfied?” Renji implored earnestly. “Baby, you can tell me.”

  
“No,” Ichigo denied again, shaking his head, starting to get a little choked up himself at the raw emotion in Renji’s voice. “It’s me, it’s all me, overthinking shit,” he swore, feeling ashamed of himself all over again, for all of it.

“I just wanted to excite you,” he got out, eyes feeling heavy and cold, just barely containing the moisture pooling at the edges.

“Ichigo...” Renji looked at him for a moment or two, eyes flicking between each of his, and then at last, he said seriously, “Baby. I don’t need excitement.” He smiled a little then, brushing Ichigo’s hair from his forehead as Ichigo sniffed and looked away, rubbing a hand over his face despite having largely succeeded in holding it in. “Making love with you’s my favorite thing in the world.”

Ichigo drew in on himself, refusing to accept the comfort even as Renji pulled himself up next to him and reached a hand out to him. “But I’m… so…”

  
“So what?” Renji murmured, voice low and gentle. Ichigo hated it, hated that he needed to be treated like he was about to break - because he  _was._

  
_“... Vanilla,”_ he breathed, like it was a bad word.

  
“Wh-” Renji let out a sharp gasp, staring at him with wide eyes like he was a very small child who’d just sworn. “Who says so?! Who even taught you that?! I’ll kick their ass!”

  
Ichigo hung his head, not meeting Renji’s gaze. He understood now and felt ashamed, inadequate, even more so than before. It was a testament to how pure and naive Renji has always seen him to be, how Ichigo hadn’t even realized or thought about the world outside of the sex they had together - the fact that it hadn’t occurred to him for all this time was proof that the purity Renji imagined was real. How can Renji _not_ think of him as vanilla and _boring?_

“I see what’s going on now… It was Shuuhei-senpai, wasn’t it. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me what pissed you off before.” Ichigo wouldn’t reply, but that was confirmation enough. Renji’s too damn smart sometimes, usually to Ichigo’s inconvenience.

Renji let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face and head, and muttered that he’d deal with that later. At last, he told him, “I’ve had my fill of freaky sex, Ichigo.” He nudged him, but Ichigo wasn’t cheered up, sitting there glumly, legs pulled up to his chest.

“Having you to come home to every night, knowing you’re there waiting, the way you know me and let me in, that’s something I’ll never get tired of.”

At some point, listening to Renji’s warm sincere voice, Ichigo had looked up, watched him as he listened.  … It’s as if for the first time he was seeing what an outsider saw when Renji talked about him, the fondness and love in his voice, in his face.

And he saw now what people meant by accusing him of settling Renji down, because there in his eyes was this conviction, this warmth. Why would Ichigo think Renji would ever want to go anywhere else?

  
“Oh,” he said softly, blinking with the realization.

  
“You believe me?” Renji murmured.

  
“Yeah.” Renji smiled, reaching out a hand and chucking him on the chin. Ichigo took it with a huff. “Ugh. I’m such a loser,” he muttered. “Sorry for getting all…”

  
“Insecure?”

  
“Yeah. . . ”

  
“It’s okay.” Renji grinned a bit, that crooked grin he gave when he was particularly endeared to something cute. “Honestly, it makes me smile a little.”

  
“Hah?”

  
“Yeah.” Renji huffed a laugh and ran his fingers through his hair, looking off down the end of the bed, sitting at his side. “You don’t really get jealous no matter what, so it’s nice to have that reminder sometimes. It’s nice to know you care what I think.”

“At least some of the time,” Ichigo grumbled begrudgingly. “I guess.”

“Heh’, yeah. Not like you’re worryin’ what some rando’s thinking about your clothes or your hair, but when I look at you, you get prickly and shy sometimes.” He tilted his head, giving him that goofy adoring smile. “Like you think you’re not cool and you’re afraid for me to realize.”

“Oh pshh,” Ichigo looked away, rolling his eyes in annoyance, because Renji was just screwing with him now, wasn’t he. “Who ever said I was cool? Nobody thinks that.”

Renji grinned wider. “You think you’re not and you don’t care, and that’s what makes you that way.”

 _"I’m wearing panties,”_ Ichigo grit out through his teeth, resolutely looking away and feeling the heat rise in his face, even saying it out loud.

“Yeah.” Ichigo peeked back at him to find Renji giving him this incredibly soppy look. “There’s not a cooler boyfriend on the planet than you.”

Ichigo would never admit it outside of that room, but he absolutely melted. “Aww… Naahh…” He rubbed his hair, biting on his lips and looking away. Renji grinned and swooped in and kissed him, hugging him against him.

Ichigo snorted at first, but eventually couldn’t help but break into fits of giggling when Renji continued kissing his face, his ear, into his neck where he was ticklish. His laughter melted into a warm hum of passion when Renji at last met him full on the lips, rubbing his hands over his bare body once more.  


“Now,” he breathed. “You gonna’ lemme’ get into your panties, baby boy?”

  
Ichigo barely held in another laugh, practically shaking from holding it in. “Don’t go overboard.”

  
“Hmm…” Renji kissed him again, sending them down into the blankets, embracing him.

  
“So the stuff I tried,” Ichigo gasped between kisses, “It was no good?”

  
“I didn’t say that,” Renji replied, smiling, running a hand down his back, planting it firmly atop his rear.

  
“Oh.” Ichigo felt the heat rise in his face uncontrollably. _‘I did it, I got him excited,’_ he thought, the idea rocketing around in his head.

  
“You know, if you wanted to try some fun things together, you could’ve just asked.”

  
“Mm, “ Ichigo mumbled. “Well… maybe.” He ran a hand up Renji’s back, cupping the back of his head. “Sometimes I feel like you tried so hard to start over new and be like… perfect for me, that I never got to see that side of you.”

Renji seemed to consider this quiet confession for a moment, and then, flashing his teeth suddenly, he whispered, “Excitement, huh.” Ichigo looked at him with a growing suspicion. He didn’t like that look, that cocky teasing gleam in his eye…

“Ichigo, you were trying so hard to keep me from getting bored, but maybe… am I the one who was boring you?” Ichigo made to answer, but Renji palmed his erection through the front of his underwear, squeezing it and rolling it in his hand.

“. . .” Ichigo let his forehead fall onto Renji’s shoulder, looking down between them to see the needy bulge, to see Renji fondling him through those panties.

“I’m sorry honey, I’ve been selling you short. I let myself get lazy,” Renji murmured in that low sinful voice of his.

  
“I think you’re right. This time, it’s my turn to get you excited.”

  
And if there’d been a doubt that he was into it, it was long sent away by then - Renji was definitely into it. He dragged those panties off of him with his teeth, _holy fucking shit, it’s obscene._

His heart was pounding uncontrollably fast, his eyes drawn wide and his face flushed hot and pink. Renji licked a stripe up his stomach and took a hold of his face in a warm palm.

         
            “Leave it up to me,” he breathed into his ear.


	10. Chapter 10

_‘Leave it up to me,’_ he said.  
  


He had absolutely no idea where Renji was going to take this.  
  
  
After that terrifying and ultimately amazing night, things had been pretty normal - _eerily_ normal. Other than maybe being a bit more affectionate to him at home, Renji’s been acting the same as always, they make love the same as always, they talk about and do the same things every evening. Ichigo had been so worried that the whole wearing-panties debacle was the type of thing that their relationship couldn’t recover from that he’d never considered how much it might improve things.

He's been driving himself crazy trying to guess what was to come. He had a feeling Renji was going to bring out the big guns, catch him unawares - and he had no idea what to expect.

There was _one_ thing Renji had told him after finishing with sex that mind-blowing night on New Years: _‘Next time maybe I’ll let you fuck me in those.’_

When Ichigo had replied that they probably wouldn’t fit him, get your own, Renji had replied, _‘No, I mean, you’d still be the one wearing ‘em.’_

The mental image, wearing that sweet baby lace and fucking Renji like crazy was too much. He’d gotten so flustered and blushed so hard at the suggestion that he had suspicions that Renji might go in that direction, just to get him to go that red again.

Ichigo hadn’t felt this much like a virgin - this excited and shy and nervous and _new_ \- thinking about their sex life as he had in the past few weeks, not since the very beginning of their relationship, and that was when he’d still been sort of modest about so much as being naked in front of Renji. It’s humiliating in a way, feeling this vulnerable and naive, not knowing what to expect next, but it was absolutely thrilling all the same.  
  


It’s been driving him crazy. What was Renji gonna’ do to him?  
  


         He hadn’t heard anything from Hisagi - in fact, when he’d last seen him at Renji’s office on his way to the cafeteria, they’d just made eye contact for a moment before Hisagi had turned away. Rukia informed him that Shuuhei and Renji’d had some sort of talk, but she wouldn’t tell him any more than that because Renji’d apparently told her not to tell.

Ichigo was tempted to take it further and scold Renji, harangue him until he told him what was said, because Ichigo had told him before not to fight with his friend for his sake, but he eventually decided to just leave it alone - for now.

“So did you have a success?” Rukia asked him with a sly smile. “Ichigo.” He looked up, having been staring off into space. “You’re miles away. I said, did you have a success?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, aloof. “... But yes,” he admitted. She gave a triumphant laugh and he smiled back a little.  
  


It wasn’t for a couple weeks that anything happened, and when it did, it wasn’t anything very out of the ordinary.

Renji called him while he was still at work to let him know that he was working overtime a couple hours tonight. “Okay.”

“When you get home, dress yourself up real nice, I’m taking you out to dinner when I get off.” Ichigo gave a pleased smile, imagining Renji leaning back in his office chair, phone to his ear. It wasn’t very uncommon for Renji to spring dates on him like that even though they’d thoroughly settled into boring domestic bliss.

Ichigo did as asked, not asking too many leading questions, since he had his suspicions that this was to do with Renji’s attempts at exciting him. With the suspense and wondering already doing this much to rile him up, he was pretty sure whatever Renji did was going to wrap him around his finger quite easily.

When he got home, Ichigo showered, picked out a nice shirt and a tie, dress pants, and styled his hair. He took his time, eventually putting his coat and scarf on for the short walk to the station, catching a shuttle to meet Renji at the restaurant. It was pretty nice, tablecloths and candles and everything.

Renji must’ve called ahead, because there was a table ready for them, and Ichigo sat there alone for a few minutes, sipping a drink and looking at the menu until Renji arrived from the office.

“Hey, baby,” Renji greeted, taking his jacket off, sending a warm gust of sweat and cologne Ichigo’s way as he hung it over the back of his chair. They ate dinner together and then went home on the train, walking back to their place with their index fingers linked.

“Hmm, I’m full,” Ichigo mumbled as they came through the door, taking their shoes off.

“Good, cause’ my wallet’s empty,” Renji teased. Ichigo snickered, still laughing when Renji tipped his chin up and kissed him warmly, just like every other night.

He broke the kiss to flash him a smile and then pressed another one onto his lips. Instead of taking it further and pressing his body onto him right there in the doorway, Renji took his hand and led him to their room.

Renji backed into the dark room, leading Ichigo with him step by step, and when he lowered himself onto the bed, he suddenly grabbed Ichigo by the tie, tightened his fist and pulled him in inch by inch, steadily so that he couldn’t choke him, and then yanked him the last little bit to kiss him hard.

Ichigo was breathless and frozen stiff, hair standing up in arousal and surprise, and when he kissed back, it felt like his nerve-endings were tingling, sparkling - he felt warm all over, but his back and arms still had goosebumps rising on them.

Renji kept pulling on him until he at last jerkily lowered himself into his arms, warm and wrapped through him - Ichigo shivered as Renji snaked his thick arms up around his neck, pulling his head securely against his. He breathed into his ear, dark and smooth, “We're gonna’ do filthy shit tonight, Ichigo.”

Ichigo’s body trembled. Fuck, he’s already so excited, so turned on. “What are you doing?” he panted. "What... Wh-"

Renji let him pull back enough to see his face. He smiled, that dark lustful look faded, a gentle fondness melting through. “Take my clothes off, baby,” he murmured, warm and sweet.

Ichigo's done this so many times before, but this time, it feels new again. Ichigo did what Renji said, fumbling to take the tie from around his boyfriend's neck with shaking hands. He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it open at the chest and letting thick tattoos peek out, all while held tight by Renji’s hand fisting his tie. He swallowed hard and took Renji’s belt off slow, unzipped the smooth zipper of his nice work pants, and stopped.

 _‘What are these,’_ he thought numbly, staring.

Renji’s eyes flicked over his face, a grin growing wider and wider on his cheeks. The first thing Ichigo could manage to say was a confused, “Huh.” He stared a moment or two longer in bewilderment. “How do… how do they fit you so well?” he wondered. “I had to stretch mine out, but this-” He ran a hand over the front, just the little bit peeking out where he’d unzipped him.

“It’s men’s lingerie,” Renji murmured.

“What the fuck,” Ichigo whispered softly. Renji smirked, a laugh shaking his body once.

When he’d been trying to find some for himself, Ichigo had never thought to look for some made specially for men, he hadn’t thought . . . Damnit - every time he thought that everyone was being rude and unfair calling him innocent, he went and did something naive again. Men’s lingerie - It hadn’t even occurred to him that was a thing.

Renji let go of him for a second so he could scoot his pants down and let Ichigo look, and Ichigo let out a wet moan at the sight. They’re way more daring than anything Ichigo had considered getting, this see-through wine-colored lace thing strapped onto his hips, _just barely_ substantial enough to hold in his cock, and not nearly enough to hide it.

“Oh,” Ichigo breathed, letting his fingers brush it shyly. “Oh…”

As he thought about it more, he realized something else, and immediately grew so flushed that he could practically feel the heat radiating out of his cheeks. “You wore these all day at work,” he said dreamily, dazed, and Renji tightened his grip, yanking him a little bit towards him, stopping him with barely a thread's breadth between their lips. Ichigo just let out a breathy sigh, eyebrows scrunched up.

“How do I look?” Renji breathed, vicious and unmerciful.

“Amazing,” he choked out, and Renji dragged his hands onto him, holding them there on his body. He kicked his pants down a little and pulled his knees up around Ichigo’s sides, holding him fast with his muscular thighs.

He had another sudden shock when he realized he could feel Renji’s bare ass against his hips. Ichigo tried to look down between them and just about fainted, blushing like crazy. _‘Fuck, they’re open-backed!!’_ his mind screeched.

He was glad Renji was taking charge at least, because he didn’t know what to do with himself, he was so worked up, so thrilled and _fried_ already.

“Unzip your pants,” Renji hummed, his voice this deep heady rumble that vibrated Ichigo’s bones. “Is your dick hard?”

Ichigo nodded, still yanked helplessly close to Renji’s face.

“Take your cock out,” Renji breathed onto his lips. Ichigo let out a ragged breath of his own and then startled, frantically fumbling down below to unbelt his pants and unzip, get his cock over the waistband of his briefs.

“We’re gonna’ fuck until neither of us have any energy left.”

“Shit,” he gasped as Renji pulled a condom from who the fuck knows where and ripped it open with his teeth, handing it to him.

He clumsily rolled it on, not able to see what he was doing because Renji was holding him so tight - when he got it on, Renji started squeezing his thick thighs around him, mashing their bodies together. Ichigo could barely get it inside, and when he did, Renji let out this ferocious purr of a growl, immediately grabbing Ichigo’s ass through his pants to urge him to go hard, making him fuck him.

This wasn’t like the comforting monotony of their day to day routine at all - instead of the warm fires of passion between them as they made love, this felt like electricity, wild and uncontrollable.

Ichigo was a sweaty _mess_ \- Renji’s so hot, splayed out beneath him like that, buff and soft and glistening with sweat, and wearing that lacey thing that his cock is straining against, that piece of underwear that the muscles of his stomach and thighs seem to _bulge_ out of, shit, he’s so sexy.

He probably looked ridiculous, sounded ridiculous, the way his moans were spilling out uncontrollably - but he’s too far gone to feel embarrassed, even with Renji’s eyes smoldering into his.

When he came, he slowed, panting and trembling in every muscle. He wiped his forehead, letting out a shaky breath. Renji got this self-satisfied look on his face, and hummed, "I hope you don't think we're done.”

He yelped when Renji grabbed him by the back of the neck and rolled him over, straddled him. Renji peels the dirty condom off and puts a new one on him, and all he can do is hold Renji’s hips and writhe around and moan and _drool_ \- Renji rides him until his dick wasn’t stiff enough anymore.

It was a little scary lying there in the gaping silence after everything. It felt like this new element had opened up in their relationship. They’ve never had sex like that. Ichigo’s topped before, but Renji never acted like that - when Ichigo came, he always just jerked himself off or let Ichigo suck his cock until he climaxed too. Renji’s never used his body like that, never made him fuck him that long - at some point Ichigo was sure he’d checked out, so overloaded by pleasure that he was just laying there with his eyes rolled back, moaning and trying to breathe while Renji used him as a dildo - it was so fucking hot.

And they're there lying in a lake of sweat, panting, staring at the ceiling, not saying a word. Ichigo’s body felt so foreign and shaky that he just lay there, not even trying to move, tears leaking from his eyes across his wet feverish face. Renji’s next to him, and Ichigo could tell that somehow, Renji could still keep going, still wasn’t anywhere near as wrecked as Ichigo was - he’d probably need a mob to satisfy him.

He’d thought he’d seen every side of Renji after this many years, and knowing there was still something to learn even this late in the game was a little intimidating. Ichigo didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t know where this left them. All he knew was that he’d never felt this amazing and torn apart in his entire life, he felt like he’d been taken to heaven there.

He can’t catch his breath, can’t stop the wet flow from his eyes. He tried to say something, but all that comes out is this little hiccup, another exhausted moan.

Renji’s familiar afterglow comfort came a few moments later as he held him warmly against his bulging chest, his naked body. “Was that too much?” he breathed, kissing Ichigo’s sweaty hair, his forehead. “Ichigo, say something to me.”

“It was a lot,” he managed to croak after a long time, and they both hold each other and smile tired blissed-out smiles.

When his heart and breathing had calmed enough, Renji helped him sit up and take off his clothes, still on and rumpled and soaked through with sweat. He hoped they weren’t ruined, that was his best shirt. “Maybe warn me next time,” Ichigo whispered, voice cracked and dry after so long moaning. “So I can mentally prepare.”

“Hmmm,” Renji considered, manipulating his body like a doll so he could undress him and take him to the edge of the bed, ease him onto his feet and lead him to the shower. “But you liked it?”

“I liked your… outfit,” Ichigo breathed, and despite lacking any energy whatsoever, the flush still managed to come back.

“Bossing you around?”

“It was intense,” Ichigo slurred, sighing and letting Renji support him, his weak knees, a firm arm around Ichigo’s chest and under both armpits to hold him up under the showerhead. “I think I like it better when you talk like that when you’re on top.”

“Okay, duly noted. But it was exciting?” Ichigo nodded, a tiny laugh escaping through his nose, too tired to even let the smile onto his face.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Renji hummed, and Ichigo could hear the smile in his voice, feel his nose brushing into the corner of his shoulder, against his neck. “I think I found the bar. There’s my challenge.”

“What?!” Ichigo blurted. “That's just the _bar?_ You’re actually gonna’ try and top that?!” In an irrational moment, he refused, “If you do, I’ll die!”

“Die and go to heaven more like,” Renji chuckled.

“Death by sex, of course that’s how I’d die with _you_ around, you, you-”

Ichigo humphed and scowled for such a long time that Renji eventually conceded, “Okay, okay, I’ll try to contain myself next time. It doesn’t help that you came that quick. I wanted to keep going.” Ichigo elbowed him weakly.

Renji cleaned him, holding him secure in one arm and letting his other hand wash him off. He scrubbed the salt off his skin, out of his hair, his hand cupping his sensitive parts gently and rinsing them off too. Ichigo felt like a baby animal, too wobbly to stand. His strength was slowly coming back, and not soon enough.

Renji toweled him off and helped him into his pajamas, and after bundling him into bed and taking care of drying and dressing himself, he brought Ichigo another blanket and a soup in a cup with a couple cough-drops.

“You’re acting like I was the one who got fucked,” Ichigo rasped, sucking the peach losenges into his mouth right away. His throat already hurt from all that moaning. The hot soup gently steamed into his face. He held it out and let Renji take a few bites of it.

“I may have taken it too far,” Renji mumbled, slurping a couple of noodles into his mouth. “Just makin’ sure you’re okay.”

“I am. Just dial it back next time. You gotta’ ease me in to shit,” Ichigo muttered, letting Renji cuddle him and pet him far more than he usually would allow.

“I will, I will. Sorry, I got excited. … It never really occurred to me to do anything like that with you, so once you brought it up, I got kind of carried away.”

Ichigo smiled a little and hid it in the mug, taking a couple sips. He was sure Renji had no idea how happy it made him to hear him say those words.     _'I excited him.  I got Renji excited.'_

  
“I have an idea of what to do next,” Renji said enthusiastically.

  
“What is it?” Ichigo wondered. Renji just pursed his lips, pretending he hadn’t heard him. “You think I’m gonna’ let you spring something on me again after what you just did? I need to know for my health!”

"Quit talking like you have a weak constitution or something, because that's a load of-"

_"Renji."_

“Fine, fine,” Renji cracked. “I’m gonna’ dress up for you again, but I’m not telling you more than that.”

“Fine then, stubborn-ass,” Ichigo huffed. “Surprise me.”

Renji gave a ferocious grin, and Ichigo almost immediately realized that whoever had thought that he’d calmed Renji down or tamed him in any way at all had been off their box.  
  


_‘I’m gonna’ live to regret this, aren’t I.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
>  
> 
> What do you think, sequel?


End file.
